Look Into His Eyes
by supernaturalmommy
Summary: COMPLETE - A vision leads the brothers to help siblings who've lost their parents. Mysteries abound, and truths are revealed, in a classic tale of good vs evil, with a few Winchester twists. hurt!Sam and protective!Dean MidSeason 1
1. Chapter 1

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 1 Visions  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence and hurt/comfort  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Sam's visions lead them to help a brother and sister who are in danger. But things aren't always as they appear.  
**Authors Notes:** This is a completed story, and the first of a few stories that are part of a series. Re-edited and re-formatted. Give it a try - and I'd love to know what you think!  
_  
Chapter 1: Visions_

_In a small room, the lights flickered and seemed almost sinister as a young woman glanced up sharply from her post on the couch. She shook her head, shaking the fear away with a brisk determination and sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees and cupping her face in her still shaking hands. She rubbed her eyes and stopped, startled, at a slight noise from above. _

She pushed her body off the couch and in one fluid moment started for the stairs and instinctively flinched at a loud scream that suddenly echoed from above. Eyes wide, she bounded up the stairs and took a left and another sharp turn, coming to the room where sobbing was now heard clearly, painfully.

She shoved the door open, taking a deep breath as she did. "Bobby…"

Whatever she was going to say was swallowed down as she looked at the figure huddled on the floor in front of her. She bent to place her hands on his head but hesitated and instead grasped his arms, pulling him upright towards her arms. But just as the boy reached the warmth of her embrace he was ripped away from her.

She screamed as she saw him flung to the opposite wall, staring in horror at the deep crisscrossing stripes of red across his chest. She ran to him, trying to physically rip him off the wall…but it was no use. He was oddly silent as he stared at her, locking eyes with her and whispering words she never thought to hear, never hoped to hear from his lips…

"Love you Annie . . ."

"Ah…" 

Dean glanced over at his brother's whispered groan and watched in concern as his brother sank to the floor on his knees, rubbing his temples, his face scrunched in an expression of agony. He flicked his half eaten sandwich to the table and overturned his chair in an attempt to reach his brother before he hit the floor face first. He reached him just in time to ease his body to the floor, turning his body to the side.

"Sam…come on man! Sammy! What's it, another psychic thing? Sa…" He trailed off as his brother started to shake his head and open his eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

Sam's eyes met his and he nodded slowly. Dean patted his shoulder and then grasped his brother's arm, pulling him into a sitting position. He crouched beside his brother and looked into his eyes. Sam's agonized gaze confirmed what Dean already knew…it was a vision, a bad one.

"Dean, we've got to help them…" scrunching his face around the images in his head, Sam tried to understand what he was seeing. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts. He felt Dean's eyes on him. "I've seen their faces before, I just can't think of where. But I know I've seen them before."

"What happened, Sam?" Dean stood, helping Sam to his feet and over to the bed. It creaked under his weight and groaned as he shifted around to face Dean, who sat down on the other bed.

"It was a woman and a boy. The woman, she looked about my age. But the boy looked like seven or eight. There was something wrong with him…and then he was flung against the wall and he had gashes on his chest but he was just pinned to the wall…. she couldn't get him off the wall. . ." By now Sam was seeing the images flash though his head, and he shuddered at the fear he felt.

Dean was trying to twist his mind around what Sam was telling him, but having a hard time following his thoughts and jumbled recollections. "Tell me what you saw from the beginning, Sam."

Taking a deep breath, Sam nodded. "At first it was just the woman and she was sitting there, looking like she was trying to convince herself that she wasn't scared, but then she heard something…" Sam struggled to find the right words to explain the vision to his brother. Several minutes later he was trying to explain everything he remembered seeing.

"I think they were related, like brother and sister…they looked a lot alike, but there was something wrong with the house. There wasn't a lot of furniture or knick-knacks or anything like that. It looked….I remember seeing boxes along a wall. Maybe they just moved in? I don't know. I can't understand why, but I think we've seen them somewhere before, or at least I have."

Sam closed his eyes, thinking back to the vision, and suddenly it came to him. His eyes flew open and he rushed to put the pieces together. "Dean! I saw something sticking out of one of the boxes…mail. Forwarded mail, the kind with the stickers over the old address. I think I made out part of the address."

He reached for a pad of paper and pen on the bedside stand and started writing down what he could remember.

He stopped suddenly and swallowed. "Dean…those murders, the ones that brought us here, do you remember the names? Where's the file?"

He and Dean had been looking into the murder of a couple in Indiana. Officials didn't understand what had happened. At first everyone assumed that the fire had killed the couple, but the police uncovered evidence of foul play. Most notably, evidence of knife wounds. Deep ones. But the part of the story that had originally attracted the brothers was where in the house the couple had been found. Evidence at the scene pointed to the woman being on ceiling and the man underneath her. They had found skin and bone fragments that confirmed it. Of course most of the details had been left out of media reports, instead Sam had found them after some furtive hacking into local police reports.

But Sam wasn't thinking about the couple as he dug in the file folder for a newspaper clipping…as he clutched it in his hand he studied it and then handed the clipping to Dean.

"Their kids, those are the ones from my vision. And Dean, whatever killed their parents is coming after them."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 2 Clean Up  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (toward a child) and hurt/comfort  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** The brothers arrive on-scene - are they in time? Or is it just beginning?  
**Authors Notes:** This is a completed story, and the first of a series. Re-edited and re-formatted.

_  
__Chapter 2 - Clean Up_

Annie drew in a deep breath, hands on her hips and back protesting as she twisted in an attempt to stretch her tired, aching muscles. The boxes around her were testimony to her days' work. She'd been up the better part of the night before and most of the day finding homes for their possessions. What few of them remained, that was. A few knickknacks finally graced the otherwise bare walls. Their meager bit of furniture was arranged as nicely as she could think to place it. She glanced upstairs, frowned and then looked at the clock she had managed to attach to the wall just minutes before.

8 am.

She needed to get Bobby up so they could get him started back in the routine of life. It was a Saturday, though, and he always looked forward to sleeping in a little on Saturdays. Half an hour more, she thought to herself with a sigh. The telephone interrupted her thoughts and displaced the quiet stillness of the early morning. She jumped. Silently berating herself, she searched until she could free the cordless from a box of clothes to answer it.

"Hello…" Click. Maybe it was a wrong number, she thought. She wished that agent would get back with her. He carried their parents' homeowners and life insurance policies and had assured her that he was pushing through paperwork as quickly as he could.

She had moved what they could salvage and rented a small house with her own savings. A babysitter had taken care of Bobby during the move so he wouldn't be upset by the changes. But she couldn't protect him from everything. Losing their parents had shattered his world, and moving on top of it was crushing him. His therapist had assured her that she was doing the best she could. He had regressed, though, to that area of his world that only he was familiar with. Annie was slowly starting to reach him again, but it was so hard.

She glanced up from her thoughts sharply when she heard a knock at the door. Who could it be – she glanced at the clock – a little after 8 am? She moved hesitantly towards the door, looking through the peephole to find two men on her doorstep.

She left the chain attached and opened the door a crack. "Hello." She didn't want to be rude, but it was just her and Bobby. Good looking as they were, she wasn't about to trust two strange men without taking some precautions.

The both smiled quickly and the taller one stepped forward slightly.

"Hi, we were hoping we could have a word with Annie Carver, is that you?" At her nod, he continued, "this is Mr. Crue and I'm Mr. Osbourne and we're with United Benefits Insurance. We just wanted to go over a few things about your claim if we could."

"Do you have some ID?" Annie thought they looked nice enough, but she wanted to be sure. Studying their ID's and their faces she sighed and stepped back from the door, letting the chain off as she opened it to invite them inside. "I thought Mr. Benedict was taking care of the claim through our local office?"

"Well, we sometimes like to investigate a little more thoroughly before accepting a claim. I'm sure you understand, Ms. Carver," said Mr. Osbourne. She looked at him a little apprehensively before ushering them to her broken down couch.

She bit back a smile at their comical distress when they sank into her rundown couch, all knees and hunched over like they were a little uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to speak when a loud scream from upstairs startled her. Bobby was awake, and something was wrong. She didn't even bother excusing herself before she rushed up the staircase and around the corner to her brother's room. She didn't notice the two men rushing after her up the stairs.

She blinked back tears when she found her brother huddled on the floor, sobbing violently. Dropping to the floor she tried to get his attention.

"Bobby, Bobby...sweetie…Annie's here. Can I hold you honey? It will be okay, I promise…" She breathed a small sign of relief when he climbed up into her lap, resting his head against her chest while still sobbing pitifully. She slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around him and started rocking him, twisting to find a more comfortable position. As she adjusted him in her lap she noticed something warm and sticky on her hand. She gasped when she held her hand up and realized it was blood. "Oh my …honey, what happened?"

She struggled up to her knees, holding him close against her. She startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder and twisted around to see both of the insurance guys behind her. They looked almost menacing, though and she almost stepped back.

"Here, let me help you. Can I take him downstairs for you?" It was the taller one again, Mr. Osbourne. His deep green eyes looked so empathetically down at her she lost her fear of a moment before and vaguely shook her head. She stepped around him, with Bobby's still sobbing form in her arms.

"He won't let anyone else hold him," she whispered over her shoulder. She struggled down the stairs with her brother, as he seemed to grow heavier with every step. By the time she reached the bottom and turned to reach the couch, her legs about gave out on her. She stumbled over and reached the couch, though, and took a steadying breath.

"Bobby, sweetie, let Annie look. Let Annie see what happened…" She struggled to fight back the panic when he refused to acknowledge her and instead burrowed his head more insistently into her chest. "Sweetie, I have to see…"

The blood was seeping through his shirt and by now the spreading stain was starting to really scare her. Regardless of Bobby's fears, she desperately needed to see the wound hiding there. She wasn't strong enough to straighten him out and look by force. She eyed the worried insurance agent in front of her, knowing instinctively this was not a typical claim for him. Her eyes locked apologetically with his before she phrased the next question, "Sir, could you, would you help me hold him while I take a look? You'll have to really hold him…he won't want you to."

He nodded even as he looked a little confused at her, and took Bobby into his lap as he just sat on the floor in front of her. He understood when Bobby immediately started screaming and arching to try and get away. His eyes widened at the strength of the little man and he looked at her.

"You have to hold him so I can look at that, don't be afraid to hurt him, just hold him with his back against you and arms down and lean back just a little so he's resting against you. You'll need all your strength…" She trailed off as he started following her instructions and gasped at the blood seeping from her brother's stomach. "Oh my gosh…"

She lifted his superman nightshirt up and looked at the wound, frowning as she did so. She ran for a washcloth and, hands shaking, wet it under the kitchen faucet, hurrying back as Bobby's high-pitched wailing pierced her heart. She gently wiped the blood away and realized that the blood had slowed down considerably. She didn't think it would need stitches. Wincing in preparation, she pushed the washcloth firmly against the wound to try and stop the flow. Bobby's wailing had quieted to whimpers and it broke her heart. Lifting the washcloth a bit, she saw the bloodflow just about stopped. She pushed the washcloth back in place and braced her shoulders.

"Here, I'll take him back now. It's about stopped bleeding and he'll do better if I hold him." She waited for Mr. Osbourne to settle Bobby in her outstretched arms. He curled his head into her chest again and she started rocking him, his whimpers quieting. "Thank you so much, I don't think I could have done that by myself."

"No problem, really. Is there anything else I can do?" His eyes searched her face and he looked so sweet, she shook her head sharply before his empathy could make her stupid tears start up again.

"I just don't know how he could have hurt himself there. He's never done that and I don't know how it could have happened …" she trailed off, pursing her lips as she pondered it. "Oh Bobby, what happened sweetie."

But it wasn't really a question, since she knew he wouldn't answer. He suddenly pushed against her, wanting release. She peered into his little tear-stained face but couldn't find the answers hiding there. His brown eyes stared aimlessly through her, shifting from side to side and down at his tummy and then back out into nothing again. He pushed against her harder, breaking her hold. Scrambling away, he stumbled a little and with a strangled, whispered cry ran behind the couch and sat in the corner, rocking almost desperately as he settled himself on the floor, arms hugging himself.

"Is he okay?" Mr. Osbourne's quiet question paused her examination of her brother's rocking form and she turned back to face him. She saw him glance at her brother and then look back at her in concern.

"I think so, it wasn't that deep and I think it will heal okay on it's own…" she trailed off, knowing he was asking a different question. She took a deep breath, and then squared her shoulders. "He's autistic."

(Earlier)

"I still don't see why we had to come so early…" Dean complained as he and Sam walked up the sidewalk toward the Carver house. "I mean, 8 in the morning, we could have, well **I** could have slept longer. It's not like a couple hours would be that big a deal…."

"Dean, I can't explain it…but we need to jump into this one. I'm afraid of what might happen if we don't. Seriously, man." Sam looked as his brother's scowl and grinned, "besides, it's not like a couple of hours of more beauty sleep could help your ugly mug."

Sam couldn't really explain it, but he had pushed his brother into getting ready early this morning in a state of near panic. He felt like they needed to hurry. They had done a little background the afternoon before when they reached the small town of Lavont, Indiana. Able to track the Carver's insurance claim information, they had befriended the local agent and managed to convince him that they were from a regional office. Mr. Benedict wasn't really a likeable guy, though. Dean had called him a weasel after their meeting with him. And Sam agreed, the man was too interested in Annie's claim and not forthcoming with any information of his own. His eyes shifted so often they couldn't tell if he was lying or just generally untrustworthy.

But they did get enough information to put together a set of fake ID's so they could worm their way into the Carver house. Thank goodness for copy shops.

And this morning, they were going to see what they could find out at the Carver's new place. They stepped onto the porch and Dean reached forward to knock on the door.

Dean met Sam's eyes as she invited them in after viewing their ID's. She was one of those fragile-looking girls. Pretty in a simple kind of way. Dean looked her in the face and gulped back a flirtatious quip. She just didn't seem like a flirty kind of girl. Circles under her eyes and an obviously exhausted countenance belied the flash of strength her deep brown eyes radiated. Her shoulder length brown hair had been pulled into a slowly dissolving ponytail. He forced himself back into the moment when she said something about Mr. Benedict taking care of their claim, relieved to find Sam taking the lead and already answering something about thorough investigations.

She ushered them to the couch and Dean couldn't help examining it a little distrustfully before trying to settle down on it, and he caught her moment of amusement over their discomfort before she swallowed it back. She was about ready to say something when they heard a loud scream from upstairs. Sam and Dean both bolted after her up the stairs and around the corner and stared at her trying to reach out to the little guy.

She was absorbed in trying to comfort her brother as the brothers took in the sight of the kid's bedroom. Just a bed and a dresser, nothing fancy. But what caught their attention was the trail of blood across the floor. Sam reached her first after they realized that her brother was bleeding, while Dean stood back to the side and squinted, taking in the sparse room's details.

"Here, let me help you. Can I take him downstairs for you?" Sam was asking her. He looked at Dean, surprised, when she murmured that the boy wouldn't let anyone else hold him. As she walked carefully past them, Sam turned to fire a look at Dean and around the room before following the sister and brother downstairs. Dean couldn't help but think she didn't look strong enough to carry that big a bundle.

He turned away and focused on Sam's silent directive. Something had hurt that boy, and the brothers didn't like that at all. He pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and turned it on, frowning when it immediately picked up a strong reading. He walked around the room and found the reading stayed strong throughout the small bedroom. And then, nothing. He tapped the side of the reader, shook it and turned it on and off in an attempt to track the signal again.

He sighed, pushing the useless thing into his pocket and then frowned as he studied the trail of blood. He walked the short red path to its point of origin, shaking his head a little. A splatter on the wall marked it starting point. The splatter was at Dean's eye level. The boy was half his height. There weren't many ways that could have happened. His eyes narrowed and he looked around, as if daring some unseen entity to show itself. Then he turned around and started out the door and around the corner to the stairs.

He stilled his last step down as he listened to the murmured voices of his brother and Annie. He couldn't make out what they were saying, though, and decided to just step down, effectively interrupting their conversation. As he came into the room his eyes found the boy, Bobby, rocking in the corner behind the couch. He was a little surprised, and it showed when he glanced over at Sam. What was going on here? Had whatever that was upstairs messed with this little man? He was about to ask what was wrong with him when he saw a slight shake of Sam's head. He frowned slightly and looked at Annie.

She hadn't been watching their silent exchange, instead focusing on her brother. She turned around when she heard Dean's footsteps.

"I'd be happy to take care of the, um, blood up there if you want?" At her surprised look, he hastily went on, "you've been through a lot, Ms Carver. Just want to help a little if we can. Thought maybe you could stay with your brother." And that way you won't have to see your brother's blood all over, he added silently. He glanced at Sam.

"I'll give him a hand and you can stay here with Bobby…" He saw her start to refuse and stand up, and cut her off. "Really, just let us help a little here. You don't need to be dealing with that." He spoke softly but firmly, steering her right back and onto the couch. He glanced back at Dean and then turned back to her, "where are your cleaning supplies and do you have some paper towels or rags?"

She looked up at him confused, and then motioned towards the kitchen "in the cabinet above the sink, and I, uh, don't have anything but paper towels…they're on the table."

She glanced their way curiously, oddly disengaged, and then shook her head and walked over to her brother, stopping and murmuring words only they could hear.

Dean grabbed the paper towels off the table while Sam studied the various cleaning implements in the cabinet above the sink. He shook his head and finally chose a couple different all-purpose ones, hoping that all-purpose included blood. He studied the cleaners and grabbed a carpet cleaner as well and glanced over at his brother, who stared at him shaking his head with a slight grin.

"What? It's not like I know what cleans blood off of carpet. I haven't exactly had to clean up after a lot of our messes." He whispered with an exasperated expression. Head down, he passed his brother and passed the siblings in the other room before turning and going upstairs.

Dean chuckled to himself and then followed Sam, almost running him over once he reached the threshold of the bedroom door. "Watch it, Heloise."

"Man, Dean, how could the blood have started up there." He was staring at the original blood splatters that Dean had noticed earlier and pondering the same thing Dean had. How did a four-foot tall child leave a blood splatter almost six foot up on a wall? It was smeared. So Bobby had been pushed into it, smearing the blood as it was, well, splattering. He met Dean's eyes and then sighed, realizing Dean knew something more. "What else?"

"The EMF reader went crazy at first when you were helping her downstairs, and then it just stopped suddenly a few minutes later. There was something in here with him, something that did that to him." Dean looked at him speculatively, then asked "Did Bobby say anything about it?"

Sam's eyes shuttered for a minute, then he shook his head. "He's autistic, Dean. I don't think he's going to be able to tell us much of anything."

"What, he's like a miniature Rainman or something? Can't he talk at all? Maybe we can find a way to ask the questions to make it a little easier on him. Man…" Dean ran a hand through his spiky hair. "I don't know a lot about that."

"It's a neurological condition, Dean – so something is hard-wired wrong in his brain. And he's been traumatized so much over the last few weeks, I don't know how severely he's affected, or even was affected before his parents…" Sam trailed off. He didn't know a lot about autism either. "One thing is for sure, whatever it was that got his parents is coming after him too, but why?"

"I thought you said before you thought you felt a demon was involved. Do you feel it now?" Dean watched him, waiting for answers.

"I'm not sure. It was a feeling I got from the vision. It felt like a demon . . . before. But I can't be sure. I feel something here, but I don't know…" Sam trailed off, uncertain. This was uncharted territory. They hadn't had many dealings with demons, and had only just found out that one might have had a role in thier mother's death . . . his thoughts trailed off. He gulped. He looked at Dean. Their eyes met in an uneasy silent communication. They weren't naïve enough to think this was going to be easy at all. Sam's eyes widened as another question came to mind.

"So why is it coming after them. Is it after Bobby?" Their eyes met again. "Or maybe it's after Annie - hurting Bobby to try and get to her? We've got more digging to do."

Dean's shoulders squared and his gaze was steady, unreadable.

"We've got to clean this up and then we've got to figure out our next step. But no matter what, Sam, we aren't going to let that thing, whatever it is, hurt them anymore!" It was said quietly, forcefully.

Sam nodded his head and then turned towards the wall, looking down to follow the trail of blood.

"What doesn't make sense is if it started at the wall and whatever it was had him already, why let him go? This is a fairly solid line of blood here, so Bobby must have been slowly moving to leave it behind. For whatever reason, it left him alone after hurting him. Why?" They thought about that quietly for a few minutes and then Sam broke the silence.

"I don't think it will be a problem to get this off the wall. But how the heck do you get blood out of carpet?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 3 - Manuevering the Weasel  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare__  
_**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (toward a child) and hurt/comfort  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Dean runs into something unexpected. Will Sam be in time to help him?  
**Authors Notes:** This is a completed story, and the first of a few stories that are part of a series. Re-edited and re-formatted.

_Chapter 3 Maneuvering the Weasel_

A half hour later and the brothers were picking up cleaners and gingerly sidestepping the wet, still slightly bloodstained spot on the floor of the child's bedroom. Trying the different cleaners hadn't made the stain any easier to remove. They made their way downstairs and found Annie and Bobby in the kitchen.

"What do you want to eat, Bobby? Use your words. Say cereal, please' or peanut butter toast please'. Those are your two choices." Annie's patient voice begged a response from her brother. She seemed to understand his guttural response and nodded. "Okay, you can have peanut butter toast, but you have to use your words. How do you ask for it?"

" Nu-buddertoas'" the boy quietly replied and his sister nodded. Then he added "'peas'."

"Good job buddy! I knew you could do it. Give Annie a minute, okay?" She didn't wait for his response, but turned toward the counter to drop the toast in the toaster. Glancing up, she noticed the two men in the doorway. She nodded briskly to them both. "Just let me get his breakfast and we can talk, gentlemen.

"We'll just wait in the living room…" Sam trailed off, noting her distracted "sure".

He and Dean stepped into the living room and stared at each other for a second. Dean broke eye contact first and dashed past Sam to sit in the solo chair against the wall. He smirked as Sam's eyes fell on only other remaining piece of furniture, the sagging couch.

"Real mature, Dean, real mature…" He walked over and very gingerly eased his lanky frame down onto the couch, awkwardly resting his forearms on his knees and gracing his brother with a dirty look before Annie walked hesitantly into the room. She glanced back over her shoulder at her brother and then moved further into the room, eyeballing the men before taking a deep breath.

"That was real sweet of you guys to try and take care of that for me. Were you able to get it out of the carpet?" She asked quietly, almost apologetically.

"Well, I tried real hard, ma'm, but I couldn't get it to all come up." Sam caught the haunted look as it flitted across her features for just a second.

"I can't believe that you even tried. I, well, I really appreciate it. I'll just call and see if a cleaning place can try and get it out the rest of the way." She patted absentmindedly at her jeans before adding, "Bobby will be upset if he notices the spot. It's a difference, and, uh, he can't really stand for things to be different. Especially now…" She trailed off. Then she looked up, eyes glinting just a little, and zeroed her gaze on Dean.

"You guys don't seem the insurance type." She crossed her arms and stared meaningfully at first Dean and then Sam before locking eyes with Dean again. "I'm not saying you're lying, just, something seems off…" She looked down and back up again, clearly unsure of herself.

Dean's widened eyes looked back her innocently, but she caught something there. A flicker of something, anyway. And then it was gone. She uncrossed her arms and fisted her hands at her sides.

"Look, I'm sorry. That came out of nowhere. And it was so rude. I'm sorry." She tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear forcefully and looked down, missing the relieved look that passed between the two men.

Things have just been hectic and I've been a little bit stressed. So, look, I have to keep him (flicking her head back at Bobby) on a little bit of a schedule here, so what questions can I answer for you guys?"

"We mostly just need a few more facts, if that's okay. And it won't take long, Ms. Carver." Sam glanced at Dean and continued.

"First, can you give us a little background on your family. Is it just you and your brother? Anyone else that, might, uhm, have any bearing on the claim?"

"No, it's just me and my brother now." She stopped and looked at Sam in confusion, her voice hardening a little as she continued.

"I thought all this was settled already. I know that technically I, well, I wasn't their natural child. But they adopted me and raised me like their own, and I thought they put mine and then Bobby's name down as the beneficiaries. I went over this with Mr. Benedict the last time he stopped by. I know that you've had a lot of questions, but I have answered all of them. At least, Mr. Benedict said it was fine when I talked with him last time. What's wrong now?" Annie's voice shook just a little bit as she spoke hurriedly. Her face paled and she swallowed in an attempt to calm herself.

Sam glanced at Dean and his face hardened slightly at the mention of Mr. Benedict. He relaxed his face a little before speaking to Annie, though.

"Oh ma'm, I'm sorry to have concerned you. We're just filling out routine follow-up forms and kind, of well, reviewing the information that Mr. Benedict included. This shouldn't affect the handling of your claim." His gentle eyes reassured Annie as Dean spoke, causing her gaze to swing to him.

"Mr. Osbourne is right, ma'm. Just routine stuff here. Now, again, just for the file, how long ago were you adopted? And do you have a copy of your birth certificate? Bobby's?" His hazel eyes met hers steadily.

"Oh, um, I was adopted when I was just a baby. Maybe 9 months old or so. I can't remember exactly. It was over 21 years ago." She said almost apologetically. "I don't know about the birth certificates. They might be at the safety deposit box in the bank. I haven't gone there so I don't know. If not, well, I doubt they would have survived the fire." Her eyes misted sadly.

"Just curious here, did you ever meet up with your birth parents? I have a friend who was adopted and well…" Sam's voice trailed off at her small sigh.

"No, they died in a fire too. That's why I was adopted…I asked my…parents…a long time ago about it." Her voice hitched slightly and she continued a little harshly "It must be something with my life…having two sets of parents killed in almost the same way. At least this time I could save Bobby."

At the sharp intake of air from Sam she glanced up, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I just got so personal. It just must be the last few weeks…." She looked almost defeated for a moment before squaring her shoulders. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Not right now, ma'm. Do you think you might be able to make it to check the birth certificates sometime soon?" Sam softly asked.

"I'll see what I can do on Monday," she nodded her head and glanced meaningfully at the door. Walking over to open the door, she smoothed her shirttail and apologetically motioned the men over.

"Just let me know if you have any other questions. I've really got to get back to Bobby."

Her mind was shifting to her brother even before she softly shut the door behind the men. She missed their intense soft-spoken conversation.

"She must be one of …well, like me" Sam trailed off, thinking. "I can't believe that…but it makes more sense now. Dean, what are we going to do? I mean, she's not exactly going to go for the insurance guys being all over her and her brother. She's had it rough…."

"I don't know, but we've got to think of something. There's something supernatural going on, probably a damn demon. And I don't know how much time we've got to figure out all the pieces here. If it attacked that kid here, and their parents in the other house…" Dean trailed off angrily.

"Then it's attached to them, or at least Annie. And it's only a matter of time before it tries to hurt one of them again." Sam finished his brother's frustrated thought. "So I wonder if she has some kind of abilities? She's what, like 4 months younger than me? So if she has the same thing going on as me then she might not even know she's got any abilities yet."

"Right now, we can't assume anything. I don't want to be dealing with another Max..." Dean startled when Sam interrupted him.

"I really don't think we will be Dean. I mean, Max had a horrible childhood. He had so much rage inside him…and it doesn't seem like any of that is true with Annie. She's way too protective of her brother and she…" Sam faltered, trying to find the right words. "She doesn't seem like the murdering, revengeful type."

"Yeah, I hear you Sammy. But sweet little psychic girl' in there might just not have turned over to the dark side yet. " His voice had a hard edge to it. "Besides, we thought Max was some screwed up little innocent too. And he murdered three pricks in cold blood before we realized it was him. I know there is still a part of you that feels sorry for him, but in the end Max was just so plain screwed up he was evil."

"I don't think it's the same thing at all." Sam cut in with a shake of his head. "And it doesn't feel the same to me, right now or up here," said tapping, his head.

"You just want to think that everyone is good, Sam. But I'm telling you, psychic-boy, that's just not always the case." Dean shook his head thoughtfully. Glancing at his brother, his thoughts returned to the girl's brother. "You're going to have to do some research on autism, man. We've got to find a way to talk with that boy about what he saw. And I am going to have to pay Mr. Benedict another visit, cause something doesn't add up."

"What are you thinking?" Sam could tell those wheels were turning.

"I'm just wondering why the insurance guy has been leaning on Annie for so much more information. I mean I know nothing about the real world of insurance claims, but why would he need to know about her adoption? The way she sounded he's really been pressing her for information. Now can you think of any reason a stupid insurance guy would be playing twenty questions with her about stuff like that?"

"Well, it could have something to do with the claim…but it does sound weird that he would be bothering her so much. I mean surely he had the police reports and official information and stuff. Just what other information would he need to be getting from her?" Sam agreed.

"Okay, well let's find the library and I'll drop you off while I go ask Mr. Benedict a few questions." Dean grinned, then added "Maybe he was just trying to get in her pants and didn't know any good pick up lines.

"

Leaving Sam at the curb outside the Library, Dean headed for the little weasel's office. He smirked, Benedict really did come across like a weasel. He rounded the corner, smoothly parking his girl in a spot about a block from the insurance man's office. He took his time walking to the office, deciding how to play the man to get the information he wanted.

He settled on their original regional office cover story, opening the door to the outer office with a friendly grin on his face. But the receptionist wasn't at her post and the office looked empty. Weird, he glanced at the clock. 10 a.m. It was too early for a lunch break.

"Mr. Benedict, I just had some thing I wanted to cover regarding the Carver claim," he called out. Hearing no answer, he decided to duck into the main office and poke around a little bit. But as he stealthily made his way into the cluttered room, he felt a sharp pain as something crashed mightily into the back of his skull.

"Didn't see that one coming…" he thought sluggishly as he slipped into darkness.

The weasel was in fact quite a slippery guy.

He realized quickly that the men who claimed to be from the regional office were in fact not in the insurance field. With patience he didn't feel, he had found ways to deflect most of their questions, but he had been still curious about their intent. He just hadn't wanted to tip his own hand.

But he knew, now, that the men were nothing but trouble. His eyes deep pools of black, he pondered the best way to destroy the brothers. They were such a nuisance for his father. He was more than pleased that he would have a part in their demise. And he would still be able to further his plan, his father's plans, for the Carver girl.

His pleasant thoughts shifted to his feet, where the oldest Winchester lay still, and he grinned. But first, he had to move the man. His black eyes narrowed. He needed his car, and some supplies.

Hefting the unconscious man, he grabbed under his armpits and dragged him into the small back office. Ripping the phone cord from the wall he used the cord to tightly bind the man's hands behind his back. He doubled the leftover cord and crisscrossed it over and around the man's ankles, pulling the cord tight.

He turned to leave but thought of something else before his fingers grasped the door handle. He grabbed a cleaning towel from the small sink in the office's kitchenette area and turned back to the man. He stuffed the rag into his mouth. It just wouldn't do for him to call anyone for help. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to gather his supplies and prepare the destination.

Knowing what he was looking for, Sam didn't need all that long at the library. He and Dean had already determined they couldn't wait until Monday to verify the Carver's birth certificates. And he wanted to look into the fire from Annie's infancy.

County birth records weren't available in the Library, but it didn't take long to find the correct microfiche from the local newspaper. And they announced births as well as news. Finding the right day's paper took more time than verifying Annie's birth date. Uncovering the news story detailing the fire took minutes more.

Sam shook his head in a silent show of empathy. Annie's mother had died in the fire, but her dad had been able to save his infant, handing her to a neighbor before rushing back in to try and save his wife. He didn't find verification of the adoption, but at this point he trusted Annie's recollection.

Glancing at his watch, he felt the sudden urge to hurry. So far he had only taken 25 minutes. He had wanted to take a few more minutes to look into some other research, but he could do that from the laptop a little later. He had gathered his papers and found his way back to the sidewalk outside before he knew it.

The insurance office was only a couple blocks away, and since he had finished early he decided to meet up with Dean there. He quickened his pace.

Sam passed the impala and went around the block to the office, glancing in the front window before turning the knob. It was locked. He frowned. He didn't like this, not at all.

Where was Dean? His car was still parked and he was nowhere to be seen. They weren't supposed to meet up in front of the Library for another ½ hour. Something was wrong.

He went around the building to try the back door and was surprised to find it unlocked. But just as he was going to open the door he heard a car park in the small lot behind him.

"Hey there, Mr…Osbourne, wasn't it? What are you doing here?" Mr. Benedict had parked and walked over quickly to where Sam was. "Your partner was here just a little while ago. I just went out to grab a quick bite to eat and thought he had taken off too. Can I help you with anything?"

Something about the man rubbed Sam the wrong way, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Then he knew it. He looked closely at Benedict's eyes and took a step back when he realized they were changing from a light blue to black. Before he could complete the thought, he looked down at a sudden pressure in his lower ribs. A black revolver was pressing hard enough into his side to bruise.

"Why don't you come on inside, Sam. I think we have a little talking to do." Benedict had a grin on his face like he was speaking to a long lost friend. "After all, we wouldn't want your brother to be waiting, now would we?"

This was not good. Mr. Benedict was definitely much worse than a stinking weasel.

"Where is Dean?" Sam spat as Benedict not so nicely forced him through the open door and into the dimly hit hallway.

"Well he's a little tied up right now, Sammy-boy." At the demon's sarcastic tone, Sam narrowed his eyes.

"You better not have hurt him. Where is he?" Sam was pushed into the wall as those black eyes steadily met his defiant ones. Benedict sneered at him, then punched him in the stomach hard enough to double him over. Sam glared up at him, and then decided he needed to act - now.

Using momentum, he surged upwards and curled his shoulder, hitting Benedict hard in the chest. Benedict staggered backwards and Sam used the opening, jumping forward to punch the other man in the jaw and simultaneously sweeping his other arm, knocking the black revolver to the floor. He spared a glance that way, and then turned back to punch Benedict in the stomach. Then he pummeled Benedict with a right hook. The shorter man dropped, unconscious, to the floor.

Sam rubbed his sore fist and then reached down to grab the revolver off the floor. Turning, his eyes spared another glance at the unconscious thing on the floor. He needed to be dealt with, but first he had to find Dean. He just hoped he was still here.

Starting with the first door across from him, he glanced in. File cabinets. Nothing else.

The next door was closed, and as he opened it he thought he heard something. A groan. A familiar groan.

"How'd a little weasel like that get the drop on you?" It was a rhetorical question, since Dean was thoroughly gagged. He couldn't answer, but if looks could kill he would be a dead man. He stooped down, pulling the gag free. It took a little more effort and his knife, but the phone cord binding Dean's feet came next. Then his hands. Sam grimaced as his brother stiffly pulled his arms forward and started rubbing his wrists.

"Did I hear you in the other room taking care of that asshole, Sam? Tell me he's hurt…" Dean looked up into his brother's worried gaze. "He's possessed."

"I know, Dean. He's unconscious right now, but we're going to have to do something about him. Exorcize him or something." Sam absentmindedly gripped his ribs while thinking. "We're going to have to shift to plan B. There's a reason he was working Annie'sclaim . . ." Suddenly his eyes flashed with a sudden thought.

"Did we talk about a plan B? I don't remember that one." Dean interrupted Sam's thoughts, his voice dripped with sarcasm. He screwed his face in pain. "Man, he must have had a field day playing boy scout while he tied me up."

"Dean! There's something different here. I mean, weasel man in there isn't the same presence I sensed in my vision. At least I don't think so. But why would another demon need to be here? Unless he needed something...information or access or something . . ." Sam thought, wondering.

"Okay, so plan B? Does it have anything to do with hurting Benedict?" Dean looked almost gleeful at the thought of exacting some revenge.

He shifted and attempted to stand. "My legs are asleep."

Sam moved a little closer and grabbed his shoulder's arm, flinging it across his shoulders, they moved towards the office doorway. Dean shook him off and walked stiffly to where Benedict still lay on the floor. He drew his foot back and was about to kick the man in the stomach, but Sam's quiet voice stopped him.

"There's an innocent man trapped in there somewhere Dean. Remember . . . demon . . . possession . . . you'll be hurting the host, not the demon." Dean chewed on his lip and then slumped his shoulders. He sighed and turned around.

"Man, Sammy. That sucks. But at least you already kicked his ass." He grinned and winked at Sam. "That's my boy."

"So what should we do with him?" Sam asked, motioning towards Benedict, who lay still.

"I don't know, but let's figure it out fast." Dean studied his brother and tried to keep the worry out of his voice. "If there is more than one demon involved there is something a little bigger going on here than we originally thought. I don't think we can pull off the insurance guys with Annie and expect to be able to protect her and her brother too long. 'Course we could get lucky and this fella here might be the only threat."

Their eyes met, Sam dropping his head with a slight grin while Dean shook his slightly.

"Yeah, I know . . . when do things ever go the way we want 'em to?"

Nothing feeds a writer like reviews. This writer is hungry ... SMILE ... I'd love to know what you think of the fic! ----Kat


	4. Chapter 4

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 4 Questions and Concerns  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence and hurt/comfort  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** The brothers find a few answers but are struck with the urgency of new questions.

_Chapter 4: Questions and concerns_

"There, that ought to give us at least a few minutes more…" Sam straightened and closed the spout of the salt canister. Then he glanced up at Dean, who was leafing through their father's journal. He had literally ran to Dean's car to retrieve the journal and other items he thought they might need.

They had already bound the man's hands and feet and gagged him, then decided to circle him with the salt and holy water in an attempt to hold the demon.

"Maybe this will help." Dean shoved the open journal into Sam's hands and pointed to the section he had been reading. An exorcism. Sam looked at his brother, swallowing hard, before reading the rest of the text.

"I know this is probably what we have to do. But don't you think we might be in over our heads? Maybe it's time to call Dad?" Sam's hesitancy was warranted; they hadn't done many exorcisms – just like they really hadn't dealt with that many demons. A few, really. And aside from the phantom traveler a few months back, they had faced those few with their dad's help. Not to mention, they knew a demon had it in for their family now.

"I already called him." Dean's quiet statement charged the air between the brothers. But just this once, Sam didn't want to think about being on the outside of this family, or about fighting. Dean's next words answered his unspoken question. "I had to leave a message. And he hasn't called back."

"So we're on this by ourselves, then." Then, silence. Each brother faced his own thoughts for a minute. The sense of urgency in the air was almost suffocating.

"We've got to wait for him to wake up. The exorcism doesn't work unless the victim is awake. I've still got the ritual we used the last time and I think it will work again." Sam studied the words of the ritual. "I don't know how well the salt will hold him, but it's the best we've got."

"Screw waiting, man. Let's just get on with it. Your Latin's the best, Geek boy, so you're doing the reading." Dean snatched the flask of holy water and turned toward Benedict.

"Wait! Dean. Remember that no matter what we've got to get this out - All the words. And he . . . it . . . might do some crazy things." Sam nodded at Dean.

"Done with the pep talk? 'Cuz I'd really like to get this show on the road . . . well . . . started." Dean glared at the 'man' on the floor. Then he unscrewed the cap from the flask of holy water and started flicking it on the prone body. The sizzling sound as it hit the thing at his feet was satisfying. "OK, Sammy . . . show time."

Dean stood between his brother and the thing on the floor, tensed and waiting.

"Domine, exaudi orationem meam. Et clamor meus ad te veniat. Dominus vobiscum. Et cum spiritu tuo. (Lord hear my prayer. And let my cry come to Thee. The lord be with you. And with thy spirit.)" Sam glanced up, expecting some type of reaction. Nothing yet.

"Deus Caeli, Deus terrae, deus Angelorum, Deus Archangelorum, Deus Martyrum, Deus Verinum…(God of heaven and earth, God of the angels and archangels, God of the prophets and apostles…)" His soft, steady voice filtered through the air as suddenly the man on the floor jerked violently, jumping to his feet, bound limbs and all. He broke the ropes with unnatural strength and stood with a sneer. But the circle around him seemed to do its thing. He eyed it with a glare. His gaze shifted to Dean, who was poised and ready for a fight.

Sam's voice drifted through, carrying on, "humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplico, ut hunc hamulum tuum de immundis spiritibus liberrare digneris…(I humbly entreat your glorious majesty to deliver this servant of yours from the unclean spirits…)."

A gust of hot air soared into the room, disrupting the protective circle. The demon laughed. Dean cocked his head to the side.

"Hurry Sam!"

The possessed man seemed stronger now, desperate as it sensed the final moments in Sam's frenzied but sure voice.

His black eyes narrowed dangerously and he hit Dean, hard, with a solid punch to the stomach. But Dean saw it coming. While he grimaced against the pain, he readied himself. The demon stepped back and then rushed into him, almost lifting him off the floor as he plowed his shoulder into Dean's midsection. Dean grunted but was already bringing his arms over his head. Locking his hands together into a joint fist, he brought them down with vengeance in the middle of the demon's back.

It dropped to its knees, and Dean stepped back slightly and brought his foot back, then forward again to connect with the man's stomach. He doubled over just as Sam said "Amen."

Benedict cried out and partially lifted himself from his fallen position, arching his back as he screamed. But no sound escaped his mouth, instead only a twisted litany of unrecognizable evil as a black mist spewed from his mouth, dropping to the floor as it trailed its way towards hell.

Benedict coughed, sputtered, then collapsed on the floor at Dean's feet.

"You okay?" Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder and shifted so that he faced his brother. Despite Dean's fierce look, Sam recognized the pain his brother was in as well. He was hunched over slightly, trying to breathe deep against the pain in his mid-section.

"Yeah, I don't think anything's broke, just a little banged up." He raised his eyebrow and grinned lazily at Sam. "If you could beat him up, that means it was a cake walk for me, freak."

But the wince of pain and slight cough belied his teasing, and Sam shook his head. He jerked his head toward the man on the floor.

"What do we do with him?" His eyes missed nothing as they took in the rise and fall of the man's back. He was alive at least.

"He's out for now, doesn't look too bad off. Let's leave him. He won't remember what happened while he was possessed, will he?" Sam shrugged.

"Probably not, but I'm not positive. We can't just leave him…he's hurt." He looked at Dean's stony face and sighed. "Dean, this wasn't his fault. He was possessed. He had no control."

"I know, but I'm still not sure about him. Look, why don't we just do an anonymous phone call after we get out of here? He's out, won't even remember a thing if we're lucky." Dean spared another glance at the man on the floor. He saw Sam nod slowly out of the corner of his eye and started making his way toward the back door.

"Don't you think we should at least make sure we don't leave anything behind they can ID us with? You check in here and I'll check the other room and then we'll split." Sam headed toward the room where Dean was held and reached down to pick up the spliced up phone cords littering the floor, and the dishtowels. He balled them all up and looked around.

There was a little spot of blood on the floor by where Dean had been laying. He made a note to check his brother out more carefully when they were safely away and crossed to the kitchenette sink to wet one of the dishtowels down. He wrung it out and then walked the couple steps back over to the blood on the floor. It was still wet, and came up fairly easily from the tiled floor.

"You ready?" Dean asked from the doorway. Sam stood to his full height and grunted something that sounded vaguely like a "yeah."

Moving together, they walked past the unconscious man and down the hallway. Dean was alert and cautious as he peered out of the back door and then motioned Sam forward.

"Come on, it's clear. Let's get out of here." The brothers slowly, cautiously, made their way to the impala, almost a block away. Luckily the area didn't look too busy and they were unnoticed.

"Now, we've got to figure out what we're telling Annie. I don't think we can stay back too far on this one."

Sam looked at Dean, and then moved forward just fast enough to stop his swaying brother from taking a nosedive.

"Give me the keys. You're not in any condition to drive."

Dean frowned at Sam before reaching into his pocket to grasp the keys.

"You better not hurt my baby, Sammy, or I'll have to hurt you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever Dean." Sam maneuvered his brother into the passenger seat before closing the door and crossing to the driver's side. By the time he was situated and glanced back over at his brother, his eyes were closed. "Dean?"

"I'm fine, just get us back to the hotel, Sammy." He ground out against the pain in his ribs and the headache threatening to turn everything into darkness. Like he would tell Sam how crappy he really felt.

But, man, he was sore. That was his last conscious thought before the numbing darkness took over.

* * *

Dean was sprawled over the bed closest the door, legs dangling from one corner and arms above his head and hands dangling from the opposite corner. He hadn't been easy to half drag, half carry into the room.

Sam was sprawled out at the small table, pecking away steadily at the keyboard on their laptop. He glanced at his brother, and then back down at the information he was studying.

Typing in a new search, he grew frustrated at the lack of information. Well, it wasn't the lack of information, so much as the fact that most sites seemed to say the same things over and over. Autism. What did it really add up to?

Sam was worried that this hunt would cause the child more trauma. He didn't know how much Bobby Carver had regressed, but he could almost assuredly assume that his parents' deaths, the move and the subsequent attack in their new home didn't bode well for the child's recovery.

Inaction wasn't an option, since based on his vision Sam knew the boy was already a target.

He had hoped to find some magic cure-all technique or something that he could use that might allow them to communicate with the boy.

But wishing and reality didn't add up to much, especially in the real world. Autism was a mystery, it seemed.

Before they could do much of anything they had to decide how to handle the Carvers. Take a chance and tell the truth? Or take a chance and lie? Either way they would just end up causing a lot more trouble for the brother and sister.

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. He checked on his brother again, satisfied that he was resting comfortably. He was a little concerned by the head injury he knew was on that hard head, mentally promising to check his brother out when he woke up. But first, he grinned slightly, a shower.

Dean woke to sound of running water. He opened his eyes slowly, grimacing at the pain the slight movement caused his aching head. Then he gingerly, slowly, adjusted his limbs, attempting to sit on the edge of the bed.

Somehow he ended up on the floor instead.

He decided that the floor wasn't so bad and stayed there a moment, gathering his thoughts and trying to will the pain in his sore body away. If only it were that easy. "Okay Dean, quit being a wuss…" With that motivational speech, he braced his hands on the bed opposite him and negotiated his way to standing. Satisfied that he only swayed slightly, he took small, careful steps toward the bathroom. He still heard the shower.

"Sam?"

"What are you doing up, Dean? Go lay back down!" Sam poked his head out of the shower curtain just in time to see his brother poke his head through the door. Their eyes met. Or they would have, if Dean's could have focused on much of anything. "Dean?"

"Hey Sammy, my head hurts. We got any of that Tylenol left?" Dean ignored his brother's order and shuffled in, starting to sift through the small case beside the sink. With a triumphant grin he held up his prize.

And then promptly dropped it.

"Oh, man!"

Sam poked his head back out of the shower in time to see Dean leaning over a little too far in an attempt to reach a bottle of pills on the floor beside the toilet.

"Hold on Dean, I'll get them. Go lay back down before you hurt yourself, again." Looked like his shower was done. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out. By this time, Dean had very unsteadily straightened himself to stand. Before he could sway too far backwards, Sam grabbed his arm and turned him around, steering him into the other room toward his bed.

"Sit. I'll go grab the pills."

Dean tried to comply. He really did. But that stupid floor was in the way again, and rather than sitting on the bed he found himself unceremoniously sitting on the floor. Elbows on his knees, he dropped his face into his hands and tried to rub away the confusion.

"Just how hard did that thing hit you, Dean?" Sam came back in, carrying the bottle of pills and a small plastic cup of water. He handed a few of the pills to Dean, along with the water.

He waited for him to set the cup down on the night stand before he reached over to feel for the head injury he knew was hidden somewhere on his brother's head.

"Hey! Cut that out. That hurts! M'okay Sammy, really." He turned his eyes up toward his brother and glowered. "I mean it. Stop!" He shoved Sam's hands away.

"Look, you're confused. Your head obviously hurts. You can't keep your balance very well. I think it's pretty obvious you've got a concussion. Now let me check it out!"

"No!"

"Oh, come on! You're not scared of a little pain, are you?" The dig hit its mark and Dean scowled.

"You can check it if you want, but I'm telling you it's not that big of a deal Sam." Dean crossed his arms. "It'll just take a little time to get over, that's all. No big deal."

"I just want to make sure, then I'll leave you alone, okay?" Sam didn't really think it was that big of a deal, but he wasn't too keen on how his brother was acting either. He smirked. "It's not like I'm gonna kiss it all better."

He gingerly felt the back of Dean's head, feeling the lump easily. It wasn't that bad, but it felt bloody. He pulled his hand away.

"You might have a hard head, but it's still bleeding. I need to clean it and make sure it's not too deep. Can you stay still long enough for me to do that?" He stood and turned toward the bathroom when Dean spoke up.

"Can you at least get dressed first?"

* * *

A half hour later found Sam dressed, Dean's head taken care of, and the shower running once again.

"Dean, hurry up!" Sam turned and ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. He was satisfied when he heard the water shut off a few seconds later. Moving away from the door, he decided to start looking over the notes he had jotted down earlier. He was still studying them minutes later when Dean finally walked into the room, a steam cloud bursting out of the bathroom behind him.

"That's better." Glancing at Sam, he crossed the room to drop into the chair opposite his brother. "Find anything good?"

"Na' really." Sam mumbled, without looking up. "Mostly a lot of the same information. But I did find some good info at the library earlier." He smirked, adding "before I saved your sorry…"

"Whatever, Sammy. How often do I save your behind again?" Dean cut him off with a smirk. "So what'd you find?"

Dean ripped open a small bag of chips and started munching as he waited for his brother's inner professor to start talking.

"Well, basically I confirmed Annie's birthday – August 4, 1983. I was able to track down the house fire that killed her birth parents." He paused, meeting steady hazel eyes. "Her dad died after he handed her off to a neighbor to go back in to try and save his wife. And after that all I could find in the news reports was that the baby girl, Annabelle, was placed in foster care. Obviously she was adopted shortly after that."

"This doesn't sound like much new information, Sam." Dean spoke through a mouth full of chips.

"No, but it does set up a pattern. With me, and then Max, remember? And it seems like the demon is still trying to get to her. Attacking her parents…attacking Bobby." Pushing his own emotions aside, his eyes glittered as he thought of the boy. "I also did some research on autism. And Dean, I'm a little worried about how this is all going to affect that little guy."

"What do you mean?" Dean was focused intently. He had been wondering about the boy too.

"Well, based on what I saw earlier, Bobby is already reacting to all the stress of the last few weeks. He's not talking. He's retreated into his own mind and even his own sister is having a hard time drawing him out. He barely even let her touch him." Sam looked back into Dean's eyes again. "The worst part is that I don't even know how much ground he lost. He could have always been this way, or this could be a major regression because of all the trauma."

Dean let out a hard breath.

"What else do we need to know about autism if we're going to be able to protect this kid? Because I really don't want to see either of them get hurt." Dean seemed almost surprised by the sentiment as he voiced it. "And don't go all geek boy on me with all the big words and everything. Just lay it out – what do I need to know?"

"Okay, well first it's important to know the main things about autism: communicating, the way he acts and interacts with others, how he perceives his … world." Sam looked down at his notes again. "He might physically be seven, but emotionally, socially, he's probably much younger, maybe three or four. Basically, he'll have a hard time talking, or communicating at all for that matter. Based on what we heard earlier we can assume he has some developing speech…but how much…" He shook his head.

"He might be overly sensitive. Noises, smells, sense of touch: They could all be affected. He might find it hard to deal with stuff in his environment, especially any changes. He might do more repetitive type things, like the rocking you saw earlier, to try and calm himself." Sam looked down on his notes, but Dean interrupted him before he could say anything further.

"So how do we go in there and protect them without rocking his world?" Dean looked intently at his brother. "I mean, we changed the outcome of your vision, right?"

"I'm not sure." Sam's words were quiet ones, but they spoke volumes. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"First things first, what do we tell Annie? It's been a long day already, but if Bobby was attacked first thing in the morning, then something could happen again anytime." He thought about that a minute. "And what's with that anyway, most the time these things happen at night."

"Assuming another demon is still involved, it's powerful. And . . ." Here Dean leaned forward and met his brother's hard gaze. ". . . this thing has a plan. It's not just about death and destruction for death and destruction's sake. There has to be more to it than that or why involve another demon?"

"And why did I have a vision about it? What do we have to do with it? Or Annie and her brother, parents. . ." Sam spoke quietly. "It just doesn't make sense."

Sam's breath caught as blinding pain pierced his skull. He squeezed his eyes together, trying to fight the flashing images. Unconsciously, his eyes flew open as he saw the scene unfold.

He didn't realize he was falling off his chair; didn't feel strong arms catch and ease him to the floor. He didn't hear his brother's worried voice as he stayed trapped within his vision.

_A whimper . . . _

_Dark room . . ._

_Small body shaking . . . hiding?_

_A whimper escapes from the small boy hiding beside the bed, He is violently shaking and rocking on his side with his arms curled protectively over his knees._

_"Annie, Annie, Annie…" His whimpers turn into one softly spoken word, repeated over and over again. "Annie…"_

_Suddenly he stills, and with uncertain features peeks his brown eyes out over the top of his shoulder. He appears confused, startled. But suddenly his dark eyes clear, showing sudden understanding. He unwraps his arms and slowly sits up, still shaking slightly. He stands, trembling, a bracing hand splayed across the night stand. _

_A slight tremble is the only clue as to the boy's fear as he slowly, purposely, walks toward the door. His shoulders are squared, his mouth set in a grim line of determination. His small face was a mask of resolve. _

_He stops, his hand stilling on the doorknob, and throws a glare over his shoulder._

_"No. Hurt. Annie. You. Go. Now!" Each word is spoken more forcefully than the one before. And while the child is a show in courage, the creature across the room from him dismisses his bravery with a wave of his hand. He frowns at the little boy in front of him, concentrating. With a jerk of his head the boy is thrown across the room, pinned to the wall like a bug. _

_Pounding can now be heard from the other side of the door. The evil creature walks toward the child and grins ever so slightly. He focuses on the boy, twisting something within his small body. His grin is chilling as the boy gasps in pain. _

_He leans his head, studying his victim on the wall, stilling for a moment. The grin falls from his face. The boy is now whispering something under his breath. Quite suddenly, the evil one starts to dissipate into a black fog, not before one last shot at the helpless child in front of him. Blood seeps through the boy's top._

_But the boy wasn't aware of the dark presence any more. He isn't aware of the hit that whips his head back painfully into the wall behind him. He is still whispering to himself, barely conscious and still whispering as he falls to the floor in a small heap. __He's still whispering to himself as the darkness disappears from the room and the door flies open. _

_"Sed libera nos a malo. Amen…" Quiet now, his eyes flutter before softly closing. _

"Hey . . . hey . . . man . . . Sammy! Come on, come out of it…" Dean's voice carried through the post-vision fog and Sam struggled to shake his head and make sense of what he had just seen. His eyes turned dark as panic finally bubbled its way to the surface.

"Bobby…the demon…we've got to go. Dean!" The words tumbled out, panic making the pain a secondary necessity. He shook his head again, mentally arranging all the images, and words, from the vision. As Dean grabbed a few things from the room and then helped him to his feet, Sam tried to recount the vision.

"The words he was speaking at the end, Dean…it was Latin." At Dean's silence he pressed on. "The words were 'Deliver us from Evil. Amen' – from the Lord's Prayer."

"How does a kid who barely speaks know enough to quote from the Bible, in Latin no less, while being attacked by a demon?" Dean's shocked eyes met Sam's. "How does he even know Latin? I _had_ to learn it and it's still hard to remember it at will..."

"There's more, Dean. I can't explain it, but I got the distinct feeling that Bobby was actually trying to fight that thing. And there's something else…but I can't put my finger on it...something important…man!" By this time they were to the car and Sam hit his fist on the roof of the car in frustration. He missed Dean's murderous glare.

"Don't take it out on my car, man." Dean opened the door, and then spared another glance at his brother.

Sam ignored his brother's automatic response, opened the door and settled in the passenger seat. Turning to his brother, he again thought of his vision. The residual pain in his head was making it hard to concentrate.

"There's something else Dean. I felt something about Bobby. A strength. Something. I think he has some type of psychic thing going on too." Sam grimaced as the pain washed over him again, making him ground his palm into his forehead in an unconscious attempt to curb the pain. A sharp intake of breath caused Dean to look over at him in concern.

"You okay, dude?" He waited for Sam's weary nod before continuing. "So you think that's what this was about all along, or do you think this is leading to something with Annie?" He stopped at a light and paused to look at his brother. "I mean, what was with telling some demon to stay away from his sister?"

"I'm really not sure…but I know this is a whole lot bigger than we thought." He gritted his teeth against the pain, willing it to ebb. His head fell back against the top of the seat as the light turned green and the car started moving again. He focused on moving past the pain and as it abated somewhat found he could finally draw a full breath.

By the time they pulled up in front of the Carver's home, he was able to clench his teeth and numb himself to the rest of the pain.

They looked up at the house, noticing the flickering lights immediately. The brothers moved as one, each grabbing door handles and jumping out of the car. Dean reached the trunk first and unlocked it. They each grabbed a shotgun, flask of holy water and other odds and ends. Seconds later, they were racing together towards the front door.

"Bobby!"

The cry was just audible outside the front door as the brothers reached the porch. They heard it and decided it was their invitation into the home. Sam nodded at Dean as their eyes met in silent communication. Dean opened the door, easing it open quickly but silently and the brothers moved through it. Sam flanked Dean as they moved towards the stairs, already hearing Annie's frantic pounding on the door upstairs.

They rushed up the stairs and rounded the corner, halting Annie's relentless pounding as she turned towards them in shock. She seemed to understand they were there to help and moved shakily to the side as the brothers converged on the door.

Sam tried the obvious, only slightly deterred when the doorknob was unyielding in his hand. He stood back and let Dean try to kick the door in. His foot connected just under the doorknob, splintering the frame and allowing the door to bust open.

The adults converged on the room, taking in the small heap against the opposite wall and the words that fell from his lips softly. "Sed libera nos a malo. Amen." They watched, almost entranced, as his small brown eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes a stark contrast to the pale face.

And then Annie rushed past them, sliding to kneel beside her brother and pulling at his arms. Tears started to fall as she struggled to pull his limp body into her arms. She rested the palm of her hand against his face, running it up and into the hair at his temple. But he was unconscious.

"Here. Let me help…" Sam's quiet voice interrupted her nervous hands as she was trying to check her brother's injuries out. He carefully reached down and pulled the child into his arms, tucking his chin against his chest and curling the child against him. He adjusted the slight bundle and turned to carry him down the stairs.

Dean followed Sam and Annie, and before leaving the bedroom he turned and looked around the bedroom with a harsh gaze. Then he turned and trudged down the stairs. He saw Bobby was still unconscious as he entered the living room, and met Sam's gaze. A slight nod from Sam and he nodded sharply, turning slightly.

"I'll call 911." He pulled his cell out of his pocket and hit the numbers, concisely recounting the barest of facts. He rattled off the address and answered questions the operator asked of him while he kept an eye on everyone else. He hung up the phone when the sirens could be heard faintly in the distance.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Annie looked like she was in shock. "What are you two doing here?"

"Just tell them what you know. Your brother was attacked in his bedroom. You didn't see who did it and you don't know how badly he's injured." Sam spoke steadily, providing slight comfort with the calm, quiet voice. "And as for me and Dean, I'm pretty sure you realize we're not insurance investigators at this point. But if you can just trust us a little we can explain more later."

Annie nodded, then looked down at her brother. Sam had placed him in her arms when she had settled on the couch seconds before. She seemed to steady herself and the brothers noticed her murmuring with her eyes closed.

"…I pray, amen." She finished her quiet prayer with words that they had to strain to hear. As she turned towards the brothers she smiled with a sad look in her eyes. She looked small, but steady. "You owe me lots of answers later, but I trust that you're here to help us. Just, I need to focus on Bobby right now. He's all I have…"

Dean swallowed hard and went to open the door as the sirens were heard right outside now.

Within seconds the paramedics were there, taking Bobby from Annie's grasp and laying him carefully on the floor so they could focus on him. Police were in the house then as well, pulling the brothers and Annie to the side separately to try and get statements.

"Please, can't I just stay with my brother right now." Annie was looking desperately over the shoulder of the officer asking her questions. But she couldn't hear any of the questions, she was instead focused intently on her brother.

"Just a couple questions, ma'm. Then I promise you can be with your brother." The female officer laid a comforting hand on the young lady's shoulder and guided her gaze back. "Now, did you see the person who did this?"

"No. I heard something, almost like something hitting the wall. I realized something was wrong. But when I ran to the door I couldn't get it to open."

"It was stuck, locked?"

"No. I don't think. I don't know. I just couldn't get it open." Annie shuddered as the feelings of helplessness washed over her again. She whispered softly to herself before opening her eyes to continue.

"Those two came in out of nowhere to help . . . " She gestured towards Dean and Sam. "They were able to get the door open but there wasn't anyone there. Now, please…let me go to my brother."

The officer stepped aside, her stance relaxing as the young woman rushed toward where the paramedics were still working on her brother. She walked over to the other two men who were still speaking to her partner.

"By the time we got the door open, there wasn't anyone in there with the boy." Dean ran a hand through his hair and met Sam's eyes.

"We rushed in as quick as we could after we heard the scream and pounding. We thought someone was in trouble. Just wish we could have made it here sooner." Sam's steady voice brought both officers' attention to him as he swallowed, looking properly horrified. A couple of 'noticeable' swallows later and the officers were thanking both boys for showing up when they did.

"He going to be okay?" Dean asked, grabbing one of the paramedic's arms as he rushed past.

"Yeah, we're taking him in to check him out. Looks like a couple bruised ribs and some pretty deep scratches on his chest." He met Dean's worried eyes and continued. "He's got a knot on the back of his head, but only looks like a mild concussion. We'll be certain when we get him to the ER, but it looks like you guys stopped whoever it was just in time. What kind of sick freak breaks in a place to knock a kid around?"

"A pretty messed up dude." Dean couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

Sam's eyes followed the paramedics as they loaded Bobby onto a stretcher; Annie huddled close beside. Their eyes met, and Sam was surprised to see quiet strength radiating from the woman. He walked over, catching her hand quickly.

"We'll check things out here after everyone's done and lock the door. Then we'll meet you at the hospital later, okay?" She frowned, looking up at him in confusion. Her eyes cleared.

"Okay. But you guys still owe me those answers." And with that, she followed the stretcher to the waiting ambulance and disappeared inside the vehicle.

The brothers' eyes followed the ambulance as it pulled away, lights flashing. Dark green eyes met golden hazel, matching anger and frustration mirrored there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 5 Contact  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence and hurt/comfort  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** The brothers are still trying to find answers as the Carvers struggle to deal with the aftermath of the Demon's attack.  
**Authors Notes:** This is a completed story, and the first of a few stories that are part of a series. Re-edited and re-formatted.

_Chapter 5 - "Contact" _

This was a safe place.

Dark, but safe.

He could feel it. The way he could feel other things. And he didn't want to face the world _out there_. There were bad guys out there. Real ones. If only Superman were here. But Annie said he wasn't real.

But Superman was the only hero he knew. He wasn't real, but the bad guy was. Then who was going to save him from that bad guy? Heroes knew what to do about bad guys. They knew those kinds of things.

He knew things.

He couldn't say much about it. The words didn't want to come out right, even when he tried real hard. But he knew lots of things. He knew that mama and papa were in Heaven with Jesus and the angels. He knew Annie would always take care of him. He knew that lights were sometimes too bright and if you closed your eyes fast enough they wouldn't hurt your eyes.

He also knew that if something hurt real bad he could run away by finding this safe place. He wouldn't have to hear any noises. He wouldn't have to feel any kind of touches. He wouldn't have to look at anything. He wouldn't have to smell anything. He wouldn't have to _feel_. 'Cause sometimes _feeling_ was really, really bad.

He knew there were other bad things in the world. Bad people. Bad things. And that wasn't the same. He knew the difference between a person and a thing. He did. A person was real and had feelings and they would talk and sometimes smile and everything. A thing couldn't do that.

Whatever had scared him earlier had been a bad thing. Not a bad person. Not a bad guy, like he thought at first. His eyes weren't real, 'cause he knew no one could really have yellow eyes. So they weren't real. And he knew that no one could turn into black _stuff_ and stay in the air like that. So that meant it was a thing. And that thing had tried to hurt him. Good things weren't supposed to hurt him. So it was a bad thing.

And it was okay to be scared of bad things.

When he was so scared at first, of that _bad thing_, he remembered what Mama had whispered to him. She had told him he was special. He was good. And he could make the bad thing go away. He only had to remember what God said. He had to talk to God.

It wasn't hard to talk to God either. He didn't even have to speak, just think. And he didn't have to think a lot. Just a few words, even just one: _help_. And then everything made sense. For just a few minutes everything made sense.

Before, when he talked to God and said that word in his head - _help_ - he knew God had heard him, because he understood a lot. He knew he had to take care of Annie, even though she always took care of him. This time he had to take care of her. And he knew that _bad thing_ wanted to hurt Annie. That _bad thing_ wanted to hurt him too. As he tried to go to his sister he _felt_ it. And he understood. Which was weird, because usually he didn't know stuff that easy.

But this was easy.

'Cause he also knew how to hurt the bad thing. He was _bad_, and to fight something bad you had to be good. Mama had said so. And he remembered something he read, something that was really, really good. He just knew that really good thing would hurt the bad thing. So, even though the bad thing was hurting him, he didn't feel it. He just started talking. He started talking to God. He said the prayer: The Lord's prayer. And he said it in the special words. He liked those special words. Not many other people could read them, talk them, know them. And he did.

That was something easy too.

And it worked. The good words made the bad thing leave. He was done talking now, though. He did still want to say something else to God though. He could feel it. The hurt. And he didn't really want to. Not yet. It was too much: Worse than bright lights and loud noises. It really hurt. So he knew God would understand when he thought to him.

_Stop. Please make it stop. Help. _

Everything went dark. And he knew that God heard him.

* * *

In Bobby's world, time was irrelevant. But to Annie, holding a shaking hand over his small one, time was too important; Too precious, and moving too fast.

In the ambulance, with lights flashing and sirens blasting, she thought for a second that he was going to wake up. She caught one mumbled word before he started sinking further away from her again.

"Help." Mumbled almost incoherently under his breath, she still caught it.

And she blinked back tears, wishing with all her might that she could help him. Everything else was a blur. Background noise. She was only focused on him. She didn't even notice when they made it to the hospital until they started taking him away from her. She looked up then, and let the rest of the world hit her in the face.

Blinking quickly to try and staunch the panic she felt, she stood to get out of the ambulance, and fell into darkness.

* * *

Sam wasn't sure what else they could do here, "family friends" or not. By unspoken agreement, he and Dean had broken up. Dean went and squeezed the few remaining police officers for more information, while Sam set about trying to check out the house.

Doors and windows were all closed and locked. The basement looked secure enough for now. The boy's room was clear of readings. He checked the room out a little further. The police had already wrapped up in here. He was pretty sure they hadn't understood the significance of the smell. Sulfur.

He could still see the impressions on the side of the bed from where the child had been, rocking. He could tell by an indentation in the drywall where the boy had been pushed into the wall. The indentation was at his chest level. Poor little guy.

Poor little guy, yeah. A small laugh escaped his lips at the thought of 'that little guy'. Bobby had fought that evil SOB, had somehow known the Lord's Prayer and in Latin no less. It had obviously hurt the Demon somehow. But it had gotten even before vanishing. The fresh bloodstain on bedroom floor testified to that.

He wondered what kind of scenario the cops were putting together to try and explain all this, and wondered what was taking Dean so long. He glanced around the bedroom again before exiting to find his brother.

And he just about ran into him.

"Hey, what took so long? I was just getting ready to go find you." Sam jerked his brother's arm, pulling them both into Bobby's bedroom.

"It takes a while to get them to talk to just anybody, you know? And besides, the wait was worth it ... especially when I tell you what _they_ think happened." Dean smirked, looking way too entertained, considering. "They think Bobby got scared and panicked. Say he hurt himself by running around all crazy like and flung himself into the wall here."

"What?" Sam shook his head. "How do they explain a seven year old flinging himself into a wall almost 5 and a half feet up?"

"They say he jumped from the bed." Dean's jaw clenched before he continued. "They're idiots. They kept saying he's autistic. Like what, an autistic kid can fling himself up in the air any easier than any other kid?"

"So, uhm, what did you tell them?" He knew Dean. He knew that Dean was as ticked off as he was. And he knew that a ticked off Dean sometimes spoke his mind. He wasn't disappointed.

"Well, first I asked them how many kids they knew could jump four feet through the air and hit a wall with enough force to damage drywall. They looked at me like I had grown two heads." He had itched for the chance to pop one of those idiots, actually. Really, really badly. "But when I asked how a kid could slice himself up without a knife anywhere to be found, they started to just get mad. I mean, those were deep scratches on his chest. No way were they self-inflicted. But that's not the way those assholes see it. They just kept saying 'he's autistic' like that was supposed to defy all reason."

His hazel eyes darkened in anger and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"They left after my enlightened questions. You find anything?"

"No, just the smell." He saw Dean's eyes travel from the wall to the fresh bloodstain on the floor and sighed. "Let's get out of here and check in with them at the hospital. We can salt the windows and doors later."

Dean nodded and they moved cautiously through the house, aware of every groan of the floorboards. As they made their way outside, they made sure the front door was locked and then started down the sidewalk towards the car.

"You know, something from my vision has been bothering me." Sam settled in the passenger seat as Dean dropped into the driver's seat.

"Hmmm?" Dean started the car.

"Bobby - he understood more about what was going on. I could tell from his body language. I'm not sure just how much, but he knew something." Sam looked over at his brother.

"So what, you think somewhere in that mind of his, he understood. Or do you think there's another reason?" Dean glanced quickly over at Sam.

"I'm not sure." He looked puzzled, trying to think through the options. "By the way, how do you know where we're going?"

"I asked one of those cops, before our, uh ... conversation." Dean grinned. "What, were you scared I was going to get us lost, little brother?"

"You've been known to in the past," Sam reminded him.

"I never get lost. I just take the scenic routes." Dean threw back at him.

"Yeah, sure. If you say so." Not sounding convinced at all, Sam grinned. Then he saw the little green sign that said "hospital – 2 miles" and relaxed.

When they entered the ER several minutes later, they were both able to find Annie immediately. It would have been hard to miss her. She was the one yelling at a doctor in middle of the hallway.

"I'm telling you, right now. And I'm only saying this one more time ... my brother DID NOT hurt himself." She fumed, the anger radiating from her small form. "I don't care what the idiotic officers think. There's no way my seven year old, 40 pound little brother threw himself into a wall five and a half feet off the ground and scratched himself enough to bleed like a stuck pig!"

"Ms. Carver, sometimes autistic children will become overwhelmed and find ways to hurt themselves¼" The doctor didn't have a chance to go on, because Annie's temper was released on the poor man. Her eyes narrowed.

"My brother does not have a history of self-harm. How could you even think any child could hurt themselves like that? " She took a deep breath, prepared to go on. But she didn't get the chance.

"Annie, I think the doctor understands your point of view." Sam took her arm and gently steered her back from the doctor. Dean looked at the doctor, eyes narrowing.

"I only know the police told me that he had to have done this to himself, and I just assumed ..." The doctor looked from brother to brother and then back to Annie, and then took another step back when Sam turned dark eyes his way.

"Maybe you should just concentrate on fixing her brother up." Sam's eyes flashed at the doctor, but he held himself in check.

Annie stepped toward the doctor, noticed he took another step back, and then spoke up.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm just upset about my brother. While I don't, at ALL, agree with anyone who says he did this to himself, it was wrong of me to carry on so loudly. And in a hospital..." She met his eyes, her face relaxed into a gentler expression. "Can you forgive my outburst, please? And maybe my . . . friends . . . and I could get back in to see Bobby soon?"

"Yes, ma'm, of course I understand you were upset. And it's just fine, just fine...don't you worry at all about yelling..." He cleared his throat and placed his hand on her arm in a gesture that was meant to offer comfort. He pulled it back swiftly when Dean stepped forward with a clearly dangerous expression on his face.

"So can we get back to see her brother now?" It might have been a question, but the doctor was no fool. The other man was clearly not really asking a question. It was much more like an order.

"Yes, of course." He stepped back and turned around, anxious to put a little distance between himself and this dangerously protective crew. "He hit his head pretty hard and is still unconscious. We'll have to monitor that for a while. We're probably going to want to grab a CT while he's still out since he's stable at this point. His stomach wounds have already been cleaned and stitched up. Overall he's not hurt that badly, but until he regains consciousness we can't say for certain how bad his head injury is. The CT will help of course."

Here he pressed a panel in the wall to release a set of large metal doors. They swung open and revealed the hustle of the ER.

"He's right in here. . . " the doctor gestured to the second room on the left and left them to enter. "I'll just get a nurse in here while I check my other patients."

Dean smirked a little at the doctor's obvious discomfort. Then he saw Bobby, and the smirk fell from his face. He watched Annie smooth his bangs off his forehead as she settled on the side of the bed, murmuring unheard words.

An older nurse bustled in, carrying a large plastic bag of IV fluids and a clipboard. She wrote something on the clipboard and hung the IV line up on the hook, quickly connecting it to the port already stuck in Bobby's arm. She patted Annie's arm.

"Let's just go ahead and get him down to radiology so we can get that CT scan in. Dr. Wilmer wanted to get that done as soon as possible since he's stable. And sweetie, why don't you take a minute and let your friends here get you some coffee or something. You need to take a break too." She leaned down and looked Annie in the eyes. Then she turned her sharp eyes to the brothers. "Annie here blacked out as she was getting out of the ambulance. She needs to take it easy too."

Sam studied Annie and realized she did look awful pale. Annie stood up as the nurse released the brakes and set the bed in motion, leaving the three of them behind. Her head down, Annie started to try and say something, but Sam cut her off.

"You look like you could use something to eat, and how about that coffee?" He guided her towards the only chair in the small room and she sank into it. She looked back up into his eyes and seemed to lose her voice for a moment. But just a moment.

"I am just fine, really. I don't need anything to eat. I was just a little overwhelmed with everything and it caught up with me. That's it. End of story." She caught her breath and seemed to think of something else. "I don't even know who you guys really are. I appreciate you coming in to help save the day and all. You seem like nice guys - but tell me: who are you and why are you here? 'Cause I know you're NOT insurance guys."

Her voice had been steady, and she spoke quickly, carefully. Sam glanced at Dean and at his small nod, he crouched down in front of her.

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. We're here to help." At her confused look, he continued. "You have to know that something is going on that is really different in your house, right?" She nodded, slowly.

"We think it started with your parents' deaths and that right now you and Bobby are both in danger from the same thing."

Gauging her reaction, he decided to stop while he was ahead. She wasn't shouting or crying. She actually seemed to be thinking about what he had just told her. Then she spoke.

"I'm not sure I understand what you are talking about. What does the fire that killed my parents have anything to do with all of this? Why do you think that Bobby is in danger? What is it?" Her questions came fast, but she did stay calm. And she was waiting for answers.

"We think something evil has targeted your family. A demon." She gave Dean an incredulous look, but he ignored it, continuing. "We're not sure why, but this demon sometimes uses fire , and he can hurt people who get in his way. Like Bobby."

"What is Bobby in the way of? What could he possibly be in the way of? He's seven years old!" She passed disbelief and went straight to panic.

"We think he might be trying to get to you." She swallowed and looked up at him.

"Me? Okay, I have no clue what it is with you guys. But I've listened and I . . . I just don't know." She shook her head, obviously in limbo. "I believe in Evil. I know it exists. But why would a demon target me? Why would a demon kill my parents? And why would a demon try and hurt my little brother? My little brother who is completely and utterly harmless, no less. Bobby's an innocent. This just sounds like too much. I can tell you guys believe it, but I'm just not sure."

Well, at least she wasn't calling them crazy. Sam thought that was a good sign.

"You don't have to believe it all right now, for now just let us try and help. Is that okay?" Sam looked at her, pleadingly. "We just want to keep you guys safe."

She bowed her head, closed her eyes, quiet for a few moments. Then she looked up and met Sam's eyes with a steady look. She glanced over at Dean's protective stance and met his eyes.

And she made her decision.

"I'll take that coffee, if the offer is still good." She addressed Dean, then locked eyes with Sam. "Once Bobby's out of here we've got a LOT more talking to do. But for now, I think I'll trust that you guys are the good guys. Okay?"

"It's a deal." Sam agreed. Then he turned to Dean and grinned. "Hey, get me a coffee too, would you?"

* * *

Annie broke the silence as she and Sam stared nervously at each other. Dean was still gone to get coffee. The silence was just uncomfortable enough that Sam was trying to think of what to say. He was saved by the sudden re-entrance of Bobby, bed and all. He lay still, looking dwarfed in the large bed.

The same nurse from before hustled in, situating Bobby's bed and clucking under her tongue as Annie repositioned herself on the bed beside her brother. She turned to inspect her patient and his protector.

"They were able to get him right in for the CAT scan, but it'll be a little while before we have results. He did fine . . . didn't wake up. Didn't even move for that matter. Poor little guy." Her eyes reflectively looked from Bobby to Annie. "Did you have time to grab anything to eat, some coffee?"

"My brother went to get some coffee. He'll be back any time now." Sam spoke for Annie and she graced him with a grateful look before turning her attention back towards her brother.

"Okay then, well . . . We'll have blood work back soon enough to make sure there are no signs of infection or anything troubling in his blood count. The CAT scan results will probably take an hour or so. The doctor will review those and come back in and talk with you about it all after that, okay?" At Annie's nod she moved briskly from the room.

Annie busied herself with placing a hand on Bobby's head, gently playing with the hair there. She whispered words to him that really didn't mean anything. And she completely ignored everything else, including Sam.

Sam found himself watching her protective mode with a small tug of affection. She obviously loved her brother very much., and was a fierce protector for him. He saw Dean come up out of the corner of his eye and turned to greet him. He reached for one of the coffees.

"How is he?" Dean nodded his head toward Bobby.

"We're waiting for test results, blood work, all that." He met Dean's eyes.

"Good. Hey ..." Softly calling out to Annie, he held up the coffee when she turned. He walked over beside the bed. "I wasn't sure if you wanted anything in it so I grabbed some sugar and creamer."

He placed the packets on the small bedside table and handed the coffee to Annie. Unsure what else to say or do, he backed up slowly and shifted into position beside his brother. He turned his head to catch Sam's eye and motioned with his head for them to step out.

"We're going out for a minute. Be right back, okay?" Sam caught Annie's nod and turned to follow his brother into the hallway.

"What?" Sam whispered, stopping to lean against the wall beside Dean.

"Well, I was just thinking we really need more information. We took care of the other demon, but what about Mr. Benedict? Are we _sure_ he doesn't remember anything?" And suddenly, all Dean could think of was more questions. "And how are we supposed to protect them? I can't get hold of Dad and I'm not sure who to call. We're out of our league, Sammy. And I don't like it." He met his brother's eyes, frustrated. "I don't like it at all."

Sam nodded, having already reached much the same conclusion.

"We could start by calling Bobby Singer, Pastor Jim maybe? See if they have any ideas. Leave another message for Dad and see if he can take the time to call us back at least." Sam's voice was tight with tension, but for now he shrugged it away. "We've got to figure out how we can protect their house for when they get out of here. And one of us is probably going to need to stay here just in case. I don't think anything will happen here, but so far the demon's lashed out at Bobby twice in the same day¼"

That thought continued in his head, to a natural conclusion that he and Dean didn't need to voice. They knew it already. There was a sense of urgency here. For whatever reason, the demon wasn't content to hide behind the shadows and wreak its havoc.

Why?

What was the prize? Annie? Her brother? Both?

Or something else?

Darkened hazel eyes met deep green as the brothers considered the unspoken.

"You stay with Annie, then. And I'll start making some phone calls. Unless he's really bad off, we need to convince her to get him out of here so we can try and protect them easier. You work on that. Okay?" Sam nodded. Dean's face hardened. "We're not letting this thing hurt another family. We'll figure this out."

Dean was gone quickly, leaving Sam with the assurance that he would check in frequently. Sam was left to turn back towards the small room where Annie was still hovering around her brother. But this time, his eyes were open.

"He's awake. Great! When . . . " Annie turned to look at him, interrupting.

"Just a minute ago, I already pushed the nurse call button." She looked down at her brother, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Hey Bobby, how you doing sweetie?"

No answer.

"Bobby? Annie is talking to you, and you need to look, okay?" She leaned down, pushing her face into his and searching for a glimpse of recognition.

His roving brown eyes caught hers for just a moment in acknowledgment. The wide brown eyes seemed to try and take everything in at once, resting for just a moment on Sam. Not meeting his eyes, he still seemed aware of the man. His eyes flickered back to his sister's face, down to her shirt. He started rocking, a slow, tiny backwards and forwards motion that signaled his agitation.

Ba', ba'. Ba' **ting' **(Bad, bad. Bad thing.). No hur' Annie. No hur' Annie." He whispered almost frantically to himself. His rocking grew slightly more agitated, causing Annie to wince and try to pull him into her lap. But he shied away from her, eyes wide. "Hur'. Bobby hur'."

The last words were spoken in a low moan with eyes squeezed shut, the child obviously hurting.

"Sweetie, let Annie hold you. Please, honey, let Annie hold you." She drew him into her arms, the action so natural that to Sam, it seemed like the boy just floated into her arms. He rested there and his features relaxed into peacefulness again, even while his body still trembled.

"We're at the hospital now. The doctor and nurses are going to make you feel all better soon, I promise." As she held the shaking boy in her arms, Annie closed her eyes, her head falling forward with an almost silent sigh. A nurse surprised her when she suddenly appeared, walking in quickly to look at Bobby.

"Oh well, hello there little man. You gave us all a scare." The nurse was looking down on the small boy huddled in his sister's arms. "Let's just see how you're doing, okay sweetie?"

She moved towards Bobby and he whimpered, hiding his face deep in Annie's shoulder and sinking into her as far as he could. The nurse stopped for a moment, unsure. Then she stepped closer to the child and moved to feel his head.

"Don't touch him!" Annie's words held an undercurrent of soft malice.

"He's autistic. You'll just scare him more." Sam stepped forward, quietly informing the nurse of the situation. She glanced from Sam back to Annie again.

"Honey, it's okay, really. But I have to check him out. I need to see his pupils and check his vitals. Please." But Annie was shaking her head.

"He just woke up in a strange place and he's scared to death. Whatever you need to check out can wait until he's calm. Otherwise you'll just make it ten times harder on him." She was calmer now, but her voice was still hard.

"Ma'm I understand he might get a little upset, but really, we need to check him out." The nurse let that sentence hang in the air and then reached over to place her hand on Bobby's back. The attempt at comfort fell short, however, as the little boy jumped in his sister's arms, screaming "NO!" and rocking frantically.

"Ma'm. You need to control him, I've got to check him out. Now, come on."

Bobby twisted in Annie's arms, glaring in the general direction of the threat to his peace of mind. He still looked pale, his features twisted in pain. The nurse reacted by inching another step towards him. He instinctively pulled away from Annie and scooted backwards on the bed, frantic to put distance between him and this newest threat.

The panic in his expression overshadowed the pain and as he started keening loudly, rocking violently and clenching his eyes shut. He slapped his face, palm first. While he didn't really hurt himself, it shocked his sister into action. Annie turned to glare at the nurse, who seemed to almost shrink from the angry sister's glare.

"What do you think you're doing? He's autistic! You can't just go up and touch him when he's already upset. You can't try and force him to do something that obviously scares him." Annie physically pulled herself back from the nurse, whose mouth was hanging open at this point.

She took a deep breath, and while the anger left her voice there was no mistaking the coldness behind the words she spoke next.

"You go and get your nursing supervisor and tell them I want to submit a complaint. And I want him to have a new nurse."

She turned her back on the nurse, effectively ending their discussion. She sighed and moved carefully towards her brother on the bed as the nurse hurried from the room.

"Bobby, sweetie ... she's gone. Okay? She's not going to be able to come near you – Annie's not going to let her. Sweetie, it's okay. Please, Bobby ..." Annie was desperate for a connection, but Bobby was still stuck in his own world. He was a little calmer, but still rocking gently and keening softly, eyes clenched shut.

"Bobby, Annie hold your hand, okay? It will be okay ... I promise sweetie." His hand moved to land softly in hers and she held his little fist carefully as she considered the situation.

Sam had watched her display of anger with something close to shock and admiration. He knew firsthand that older siblings tended to go overboard protecting their counterparts; he'd seen Dean do enough damage to know that.

But, wow.

He almost felt sorry for the nurse. Almost. Watching Bobby still moaning softly and rocking slightly drove that bit of pity from his head.

"Is there anything I can do? Annie?" Sam walked just a little closer to the bed, not wanting to frighten the little guy any further.

That seemed to stop Bobby anyway, though. He sniffled and opened his eyes, peering around anxiously. But he wasn't trembling or rocking, and his moaning ceased. His forehead creased as his eyes darted around, over Sam. His eyes flicked over the tall man and then his gaze wandered around the room further. His eyes kept coming back to roam over him.

"Hey there kiddo, that's Sam. Him and his brother helped you at the house. They're our new friends, sweetie. He's okay ... he won't hurt you. I promise." She stared over her shoulder at Sam in a silent warning: _Don't break my promise. Don't hurt him. _

"Hi there, little guy. It's good to finally meet you." Sam walked very cautiously towards the bed, gazing at Bobby's face. He understood, without question, that this was a major test for the child., and he had to pass it. He crouched beside the bed, peering into the boy's face from up close. He was calmer, but Sam could sense the agitation within him.

"We're here to help you and Annie." Here he glanced at Annie. He lowered his voice and spoke in a whisper, leaning just a little closer to the shaggy-haired little boy. "We know about that bad thing that tried to hurt you and your sister. And we want to help stop it."

And with that comment, Bobby surprised him. And from the sound of the small gasp to his side, Annie was surprised too.

He looked into his eyes.

Sam had a glimpse of the boy underneath the vacant stare. Calm. Steady. Knowing. Bright. Scared. Really, really scared. All that in just a few moments of steady eye contact. And then the connection was gone. He blinked, and the small brown eyes opposite his were roaming the room again.

"Ba' ting. No' man. Ting. Ty' hur' Annie. Bobby say spec'l wor's. (Bad thing. Not man. Thing. Try hurt Annie. Bobby say special words.)" The boy spoke softly, his voice trembling slightly. Sam met Annie's eyes in surprise. She shook her head, shocked.

"You used your words Bobby. Annie's so proud of you! Good job!" Annie's praise seemed to create a bit of warmth in the child. He lunged into his sister's lap, burrowing his head into her chest. Sam smiled.

"That's a 'Bobby hug'." She motioned down to the head burrowed in her chest. "He doesn't do this that often. He must like you, too ... he doesn't make eye contact very often either."

Sam nodded. He had known that was something special. But Bobby's words stopped him cold.

"Did he just say what I think he did?" He whispered, almost strangled. He shook his head in a bit of amazement. Annie looked at him and then back down at her brother, understanding dawning quickly.

"Bobby, you knew what was going on? You knew what that thing wanted? Sweetie, how did you know to use your special words?" She looked at her brother, bewildered. She really didn't expect an answer. But a soft one carried through, muffled against her chest.

"Mama said. Spec'l wor's good. Hur' ba' ting. Good tings figh' ba' tings. (Special words good. Hurt bad thing. Good things fight bad things.)" He nuzzled into his sister, content to stay put. He had no idea the effect his words had on the adults in that room.

"How does he know Latin?" That question had been bothering Sam since his vision. "And how does he speak it so well when he has such a hard time talking, normally?"

"He's autistic. But we've known he was special for a while. He's what they call an autistic savant." She looked into his eyes to see if he believed her. She spoke softly, not wanting to disturb her brother. But she shook her head slightly, like she was still amazed at her brother's abilities. "He can learn just about anything, books, languages. And what he learns, he tends to perfect."

"It's like he uses a different part of himself. The doctors can't really explain it. I'm not sure why his regular speaking is still developmentally delayed. They don't get it either." She grinned to herself, glancing at Sam. "Maybe he's just focused on learning so much other stuff that in his mind it doesn't seem as important."

"He's always wanted to learn more and more about religious things. He knows the Bible. Went on to pick up Latin in weeks at the catholic school he goes to. They let him have full access to the Library there, except for the really valuable books. Call him one of God's blessed innocents."

She paused to think a moment.

"We've always encouraged him. My parents thought it was a gift from above and that we needed to really encourage it. She must have told him sometime about Latin being a special language, able to fight evil..." She looked at Sam, suddenly unsure.

"That's why you said you believed in evil?" Sam remembered the conviction with which she had said she knew evil was real.

"Oh, yeah. I don't know how you can live in this world and not believe in evil. I think, sometimes, it's harder for people to believe in good." She gulped. "Our parents, they taught us from the get go that good and evil were both constants. God uses both to accomplish His will."

Sam considered her words. His silence seemed indicative of something else.

"Sorry. I forget that not everyone believes the same as we do. It's always been a given in our lives. We have a lot of faith ... always have. My parents did too." The thought of her parents left any further thoughts dead on her lips. She suddenly remembered her brother, looking down to find him relaxed and asleep against her.

"My parents always said they wanted us prepared to face the evil in the world. They wanted us ready for battle." She shuddered. "I don't know if they meant for us to be ready to face it literally."

Sam was churning a bit inwardly. Her words reminded him of his father's. Preparing to _fight the evil in the world_. He had to remind himself that in their world, they were talking about faith, intangible things.

In his world, it was more physical.

He wasn't sure Annie's parents were preparing their kids to walk into a physical battle with a demon.

"I don't know. With all the evil that we see, everyday, in our line of ... uh ... work ... I think it makes sense that there would be the opposite of that. Something good. Noble. Heavenly maybe?" Sam met her eyes.

"I don't know." He repeated, running a hand through his hair. He didn't really feel like getting into a spiritual discussion right now. Ever, really.

"But physically fighting it?" He grinned at her in confidence. "That's what Dean and I are here for."


	6. Chapter 6

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 6 "Escape"  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare  
_**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:**The siblings escape from the hospital, and we learn more about Bobby. Bobby runs.  
_  
**Chapter 6 – Escape**_

_****_

The doctor entered, looking at Annie before he glanced down at his paperwork.

"Ms. Carver. We've got the test results back. The good news is the CAT scan was clear. And, his blood counts weren't off that bad, considering his blood loss." Here he paused, looking at Annie rather intently. "I'm concerned about the CBC results for a different reason, though. They show he's moderately dehydrated. The IV fluids will help, and I would think he should follow-up with his pediatrician to monitor the nutritional needs."

"Great! So how long does he need to stay here? I'd like to get him home where he's more comfortable." She met the Doctor's eyes anxiously.

"Let's get some fluids into him. Another hour?" The doctor waited for her slight nod before starting towards the door.

"Oh, Dr? Who's the head of nursing, or whoever is in charge over the weekend, and how do I get in touch with them before Bobby is released?"

"That would be Mr. Larkin. I'll contact him and ask him to come see you as soon as possible."

"Thanks."

The doctor disappeared and Annie gave in to the need to be beside her brother again. She was anxious for that coffee Sam had gone to get now, as the day started really taking a toll on her. He should be back anytime, she absently thought, taking a seat carefully beside her brother's still form.

She relaxed, finding her eyes closed and smiled softly. _Lord, take care of him, please?__ Help me to stay calm as I meet with this guy. __Be with me, __strengthen me, Lord__. I don't know how much more I can take today. In His name I pray, Lord, amen._

It was a short prayer, but it made her feel better. She turned to look behind her as the door opened softly behind her and saw the tall, thin stranger enter. She stood and straightened, granting one last look at Bobby to ensure he was sleeping.

"Are you Mr. Larkin?" She had turned and found herself face to face with the man, a little taken back by the dark look on his face before he schooled his features into a pleasant expression.

"Yes. Dr. Ames told me you wanted to voice a complaint of some kind…what would be the problem, Ms. Carver?" He spoke pleasantly enough, but there was a bite of impatience, and…anger…in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry for disturbing you. But I didn't want this to wait." She waited a minute, and then decided to go for it. The man already seemed annoyed, why sugarcoat the issue? "I don't just want to _voice_ a complaint, though. I want a formal, written complaint drawn up and attached to this nurse's file. And I want appropriate action taken to ensure she learns from her mistakes."

His eyes narrowed and she wondered for a moment if she had gone a little too far. Then she glanced back down at Bobby. And she squared her shoulders.

* * *

"Yeah, I talked to her. She's supposed to check with the doctor as soon as they get back with her about his test results." Sam had run into Dean on his way back to Bobby's room and was filling him in on what he knew.

Dean helped himself to one of the coffees he held and Sam shot him a dirty look.

"Okay, so hopefully everything's okay and we can waltz out of here soon. I found out a little bit of information. I don't know how much of it is going to help us though." Dean grimaced, having taken a swig of the bitter coffee.

"Well, first I called Bobby Singer. He said he wished we were closer to him, he has a few books that might be able to help us, with protection symbols and stuff in them. One of them is supposed to be really old. . . buuuuut, since we can't get there, he told me about a something we can do to try and protect Annie and Bobby." Sam was watching him expectantly.

"Then I called Pastor Jim…" His voice trailed off. They had reached Bobby's room and could now hear the sounds of a muffled angry voice on the other side of the closed door. "What the…"

He was about to open the door when Sam grabbed his arm and motioned him to the side of the door. He quickly filled his brother in on Annie's request to speak with the nursing supervisor.

"I'm willing to bet that is the supervisor." He finished.

Their eyes met and both leaned closer to the door.

"Sir, I don't know why you think I'm overreacting." Annie's calm, patient voice came through the door clearly. "The nurse, Betsy did you say her name was? She upset my brother, ignoring my warnings, ignoring me. She disregarded anything that was said to her and knowingly upset my brother. He's here because he's hurt. And he's autistic. Since he can't speak for himself, I need to speak for him. But she not only didn't listen, she could have hurt him with her actions."

Annie had just paused to take a breath, but the other man jumped in.

"You don't think you might be overreacting because your brother is hurt, because he most likely hurt himself?" Annie's gasp was fairly audible through the door, but the man went on. "Maybe you're not able to deal with your brother's condition. You're what, 22? He's a special needs child, he got hurt on your watch…"

"I know you aren't suggesting that my brother got hurt because I'm young, inexperienced in the big bad world, or any other nonsense like that, sir. You're very close to walking across a line here." Annie's voice, while steady, was tightly controlled with unconcealed anger. "She put my brother through pain, scared him, because of her ignorance. She could have caused him to pull his stitches or even go over the side of the bed in his fear."

She paused, but not long enough for the man to speak.

"I'll have you know, right now, Mr. Larkin, that I am quite familiar with autism, not just because I have a brother who happens to be autistic, but because I am taking a break from getting my own degree in special education. I'm not an idiot. I'm not so young and inexperienced that I can't take care of my own brother."

The boys could hear her take a bracing breath.

"I also understand fully that you might not want the bother of an official complaint. But I'm going to let you know, if this isn't taken care of, I will be making an official complaint at the state accrediting level. Barring that I might even decide to go to the media. You can't shove this under the rug."

"You little…" The faceless man's voice had turned decidedly nasty.

"I don't think you want to take that tone with me, sir." Annie's voice was still calm, but had a bite of anger to it. And it seemed like just a little bit of fear. "I won't let anyone hurt my little brother. I don't care if they don't know any better or not. Ignorance is no excuse. I know that you can try to make trouble for me, but I know our rights. And I won't let you or this hospital forget them."

"Oh, I can make trouble for you. It won't be hard at all. Your brother can spin his retarded wheels in a group home because of his self-abusive tendencies, and you…"

The man didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. He was stunned instead to find two angry men come barreling through the door. He looked down a little late to let go of the bruising grasp he had on Annie's arm and stepped back, hands up.

"You okay?" Sam stooped to meet Annie's eyes. "Annie?"

His eyes narrowed in anger at the fear that flickered briefly across her face, and then he looked down where she was rubbing her arm. He took her wrist and turned it, looking at the bright red discoloration there. He turned his head to see what his brother was up to.

Dean had the man's arm twisted behind his back and was whispering in his ear. Sam wasn't sure what he was saying, but he was pretty sure it wasn't sweet nothings. As the man's face blanched and eyes widened, well, he was positive.

"I'm s..s…sorry." The man sought out Annie. "I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't mean to threaten you or…to…hurt…you."

He relaxed in relief as Dean let go of his arm. He all but ran towards the door.

He was ignored.

"You okay?" Dean flinched, looking at her arm, and then looked her in the eyes.

"Yes." She was pale, but took a deep breath, steadying herself. She stole a glance at her brother, relieved to find him still sleeping. "I don't understand why he was so upset. I only wanted that nurse to have some additional training on autistic patients. Instead of trying to apologize or anything he just went really defensive."

"After this is all over, you can deal with him. So did the doctor make it in?" Dean glanced over at Bobby and then back at Annie.

"I talked with him. Bobby checks out okay. All those tests prove he's just not eating or drinking enough." A small laugh escaped. "But that's par for the course with Bobby."

She swept a knowing glance over her brother, continuing.

"His CAT scan was clear and the rest of the blood work was okay. The doctor said we could leave after we run the last of the IV fluids." She looked at her watch. "He said probably an hour, and that was about fifteen minutes ago."

Dean nodded. Sam met his eye and, after the barest of nods, turned to face Annie.

"Dean might have found out something that could help us, but we're not sure. We've still got some more checking around to do. But we're running out of time since we're not sure when the demon might attack again." Sam leaned down their eyes met. "We need to make sure you guys are somewhere safe."

Annie started to shake her head, but Sam's next words stopped her.

"For now, just remember…all we want to do is help protect Bobby. And you." His eyes were bright green as he met Dean's eyes and then rested again on her. He knew using her brother was a low shot, but it was the truth. "Let us help."

"I have someone I want to check in with too." Annie's quiet statement surprised them. A response died on Dean's tongue as she continued. "He's an associate pastor at our church. And I think he might be able to help."

"Are you sure? Not a lot of people understand the stuff we deal with. And most find it pretty hard to believe." Sam asked her quietly.

"We believe in our own…things…that you guys might have a hard time believing in. This is an extension of that. And I think this guy might be able to help." She sounded sure of herself. "You can't just fight evil without bringing the good side into it. I think God, and our belief in him, is part of that."

"I'm just not sure we should bring anyone else into this." Dean sounded very unsure.

"Well, too bad. I trust him and I want to know what he thinks. And I think he can help us." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. Her eyes locked with Dean's. "I'm not about to stand on the sidelines when it comes to protecting him. And I'll use anyone I think can help to do that."

"Fine…" Dean shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Then he met her eyes. "But we need to talk with him too."

She nodded, then turned back to study her brother. She moved back towards him as he started twisting in the bed.

Sam pulled his brother to the side of the room.

"Well, I think one of us should stay here, but we're going to have to talk, man. I found out a few things of my own about little Bobby here. And I want to hear what Pastor Jim had to say." Dean nodded.

"I know, but we can hold off a little until he's out of here. I don't know if I trust that creep to keep his distance…" Dean trailed off, eying Annie."She looks about ready to fall over."

Sam nodded.

"I'm curious about that pastor friend of hers. Wonder what she thinks he can do."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter who else is involved, we're in this fight too." Then Dean grinned, but the steely gaze anchored in his darkened eyes was dangerous. "And we're going to kick some…" In deference to the little boy struggling to awaken he softened his words to finish his thought. "...butt."

* * *

Annie sighed, as she settled into the dilapidated chair. At least they were home. Two hours, and countless signatures later, even Bobby was fully awake and ready to leave the hospital.

Her gaze found her brother, who was quietly looking at books in his bean bag chair behind the couch.

Where he was positioned, he wasn't able to witness what the two brothers were up to. And it was probably a good thing. He definitely wouldn't have understood why they were pouring salt in front of all the doors and windows. She wasn't entirely sure that she did, but they said it was something small they could do for protection.

No, as Bobby would say, salt goes on food, not the floor.

Maybe he wouldn't notice it anytime real soon. She closed her eyes, smiling inwardly. Was it just this morning she was worried about starting him back into some kind of routine? Not even a day later, and they were readying to take on a demon and she was opening her home to two strangers so they could pour salt on her floors. She swallowed back another giggle.

Her moment of insanity past, she kept her eyes closed and said a silent prayer for wisdom. Then she rested her face in her hands and willed her hands to stop shaking.

Deep breath.

Another. She could do this.

The shaking stopped and she opened her eyes, turning back into the kitchen.

"You guys want some coffee?" The sight of them almost started her crazy giggling attack again. Dean was by the door, spreading a salt line. And Sam was leaning over her sink, spreading a similar looking one in front of the window there. Both men absently murmured yes, so she swiftly added coffee grounds to a new filter and filled the machine with water.

The sound of coffee gurgling a few moments later was oddly soothing to her, although she conceded it was probably just the thought of caffeine. She felt like she could sleep standing up. She pulled cups out and poured for them all. The brothers each grabbed a cup, and following her lead, settled in at the kitchen table.

"So Andrew will be here soon, and I wanted to make sure and talk with you before he gets here." She cradled her cup in her hands, staring into the black liquid. "Pastor Andrew is a friend, but he's also head of the church library where Bobby goes to school. He's a huge researcher and he's consulted with the Vatican on a few special cases."

That garnered a raised eyebrow from both brothers, but Annie didn't see. Her eyes were still fixed solidly on the black liquid in front of her.

"I really trust him." Here she finally met their eyes, fixing wide brown eyes on both men before lowering them again. "About a year ago we were at a loss at to what we could do for Bobby. We could tell he was special, that he needed more direction, challenges. Pastor Andrew found him studying a Latin book during a class library visit and saw something special there. He's the one who realized that Bobby was actually reading that huge book and understanding it enough to teach himself the language."

"When he met with my parents, he told them that we needed to guide Bobby, and encourage him. Because he had a special gift." She again met their eyes, seeing she had their full attention. "I was there at that meeting, home on a break from school. He told us that Bobby had a true calling, a purpose of some kind."

"He saw that in him, almost a year ago." She swallowed and risked meeting their eyes again, holding Sam's green eyes. "Bobby's kept going to the school there, but he spends most of his days in the library, and pastor Andrew has been tutoring him. Challenging him.

"Bobby's read the Bible, has huge bits of it memorized. He's learned Latin, can read it perfectly. And he's read all kinds of other books. He knows as many facts about Christianity and the Bible and God as most pastors."

"But he still can't speak English …" Dean wasn't really asking it as a question, but Annie recognized it as one.

"Sometimes, autistic kids, most kids for that matter, will focus on a skill. While they are focusing on that skill, they let everything else lapse. Except for his Latin, Bobby hasn't made any great progress in speaking this year at all. He hasn't worked on his fine motor skills. He can't even write with a crayon, much less a pencil."

Dean blinked. While he was still trying to wrap his mind around the thought of a 7-year old child who had trouble speaking English reading and pronouncing perfect Latin, a knock sounded at the front door.

"That's probably pastor Andrew." Annie murmured, getting up and rounding the kitchen door to reach the front door.

As they listened to the quiet sounds at the front door, the brothers' eyes met.

Things just got more complicated.

* * *

Annie was pleased to see the big man at the door.

Easily over six foot, and as big as a good-sized tree, father Andrew's presence always was a balm for her nerves. Especially lately. He'd really been a true friend. She just hoped she was making the right decision, bringing him into everything going on.

"Hey Annie…" He trailed off, taking in her pale appearance and the circles under her brown eyes. "You okay, kiddo?"

She grinned, he was one of the few people that could refer to her as a kid and get away with it, and he knew it.

"We've had a really rough day, pastor…" She knew what he was going to say before he even interrupted her.

"I've told you, time and time again, just call me Andy." He gazed around the room, finding the other Carver sibling's dark hair poking out from behind the couch. "I'm always a pastor, but I only need the formality at church. You know that."

"Sorry, Andy. . . we've just gotten home from the hospital." She took in his surprise, and then continued. "Bobby was attacked earlier today. He's okay, but we're dealing with something a little out of our league at this point."

"Attacked? Annie, you should have called." He granted her with a slight disapproving look before scooting to the side to get a better look at the younger child behind the couch. He noted the Bible he was reading with a grin. "What happened?"

"It's kind of hard to explain, Andy." Here Annie hedged. While she knew the pastor – Andy, she mentally corrected - would believe her. She also knew it wasn't everyday someone came out and said they were dealing with a supernatural evil. "I think we're being attacked by something evil."

His gaze sharpened on her, the brown eyes turning almost black in their intensity.

"What do you mean, something evil?" His voice was guarded.

'We think, or rather, our new friends think…and I tend to agree…that it might be a demon." She sheepishly met his gaze, knowing how crazy she must sound. "They are in the kitchen, and honestly I have no clue how to explain this all to you. But this is what they do – they fight the supernatural - the evil."

"Annie, how? … New friends? Demon?" The big man gazed at her with a mixture of surprise, concern and something else, something almost … dangerous.

"Look, we'll go in and go over everything. But Andy, you know me….just…keep an open mind." She really didn't want him to think she was crazy, but she really wanted his help…she trusted him. "You were one of the first ones to tell me about the evil in the world, and how God armed us with His word to fight it.

She swallowed hard and put her hand on his arm, causing him to look at her intently.

"Andy, it came after Bobby. And it's coming after me. They think…" This was hard. "They think that it caused the fire that killed our parents."

The big man patted her hand and pulled her in for a firm hug before setting her off and leaning down to gaze in her eyes.

"I told you a long time ago that it takes a lot to surprise me, Annie. And I meant it." His eyes were sincere. "I've fought a few demons of my own, sent them back to hell where they belonged. You know that. We'll get to the bottom of this."

She hugged herself almost desperately, trying to ward off the fear that was creeping into her. Andy believed what she said. Took her word for it, hardly blinked, really.

This was just crazy.

"You believe me?" It was absurd. She knew he did believe her, but couldn't understand it. It was so crazy. She had hoped he would scoff at her claims and pat her on the head and say it wasn't real. It couldn't be. But instead he acted like it was a given.

"Annie, you don't become an exorcist if you can't believe in the unbelievable." He ran his hand through dark blond, chin length hair, pulling it off his face in a measure of concentration. "Besides, I've felt for a while now that God has a special plan in yours and Bobby's lives."

At her questioning gaze, he smiled thinly, taking her hand again.

"I wasn't so sure what that was. But I've sensed something." He turned away from her silently. "When I've prayed for you guys, I've just felt this need to pray for your protection as well. I've felt like God has a higher plan in your lives, and He set me up to be a part of it."

"Let me have a minute with the little man here, and then why don't we have a chat with your 'new friends' in the kitchen?" He started towards Bobby after taking in her nod.

Knowing from experience just how deeply the boy concentrated when he was reading, He first peeked around the corner of the couch at him.

"Bobby, what are you reading, man?" He grinned at the surprised look of pure joy that crossed the little guy's face. He didn't expect an answer. And he didn't get one.

"An-dee!" Bobby's special way of pronouncing the big man's name always sounded extra special to him. He caught his breath as the little man launched himself towards him. The head butt was just short of painful, but he wrapped his arms around the boy as his head burrowed in deeply.

A Bobby hug.

He grinned at the form snuggled into his midsection. He knew from experience the child loved the deep pressure of a really good bear hug. And those just happened to be his specialty. His grin widened. It left his face as he thought of what Annie had told him.

"Hey buddy, I need to go talk with your sister now. Read some more of that Bible for me, okay?" He studied Bobby's face as he disengaged from his midsection and turned his little face up to Andy's.

A fleeting moment of brown eyes meeting left Andy feeling almost breathless. That moment told him more than he had realized about the child in front of him. Bobby understood something big was happening. And he seemed braced to be a part of it. As Bobby settled back into his beanbag chair, King James Bible in tow, he glanced up and found Annie waiting, watching them. He stepped away and back with his long legs and stood with her for a second.

"Okay, let's go meet your friends."

* * *

Dean glanced up first as Annie and pastor Andrew walked into the kitchen. And his eyes widened slightly as he took in the linebacker wanna-be in front of him. Sam caught his expression and looked up.

"You must be pastor Andrew." He reached out a hand and kicked his brother under the table at the same time. The dirty look on Dean's face told him he had hit his mark, but at least his brother wasn't staring at the hulk of a man in front of them anymore. He smirked at Dean and then raised his eyes to meet the pastor's.

He stood, and wasn't surprised to see the pastor actually had an inch or two on him; and probably fifty pounds, of solid muscle. He blinked. Just what kind of work did pastors do around here?

"You can call me Andy." His brown eyes appraised the men in front of him. Dean stood, reaching a hand out.

"Dean. And this is my brother Sam. Winchester." He studied the bigger man, and, sensing nothing to distrust, grinned a lopsided grin at him. Their hands met in a firm handshake.

"Well, guys. Annie tells me we're dealing with some type of demon here. What do you know about it?" He met their surprised looks steadily. "I'm sure Annie mentioned that I have occasionally consulted with the Vatican?" At their nods he went on. "I've been trained as an exorcist. I've sent a few demons back to hell in my time. I research constantly, and sometimes come across things that the folks in Rome find interesting."

Dean and Sam looked at Annie in surprise.

"You might have mentioned he was an exorcist, at least we wouldn't have wondered about him flipping out on us." Dean quietly reproached her. But his grin took the bite away from the words.

"Well, I'm more of a consultant than an actual exorcist. But the church doesn't actually have an 'official' exorcist in this area, so it falls to me." He studied the men in front of him, motioned for them to sit, and then he joined them at the table.

"You're not believers." It was a statement, with no judgment behind it.

"No, that's not a problem, is it?" Dean's voice had an edge to it. Andy brushed it off.

"Not at all, just a statement. How do you plan to fight against a demon and win if you don't have faith in God to send it back to hell?" He looked confused. Another thought came to him. "You've already done a few exorcisms of your own. What ritual did you use?"

Sam looked a little uncertain at this point, knowing the pastor had a point.

"We've used a modified version of the Roman ritual. We believe in the power of the words to send them back to hell. And it's obviously been enough, because it's worked a few times over for us." Dean spoke up. They had been trained to understand and acknowledge the power behind the words in the rituals. The Latin was another tool in their arsenal.

"Then you haven't realized the full power behind the ritual." Again, it was a statement of fact. "Faith makes it stronger. Because you don't believe in God, you have nothing but words against true evil. And while the words are powerful, they aren't always enough."

He met the hazel eyes across the table unflinchingly. He saw something flicker there. Then it was gone.

"Yeah, well…faith is great for other people." A grin took over. "But the words are enough for me."

"We're just not the faithful type, Andy." Sam cut in gently. "We fight and kill all the evil we can. That's enough for us."

It was a lie, but he'd leave it at that. And be thankful the pastor didn't decide on a full out religion discussion.

"Well, why don't we start from the beginning. If I'm going to help at all, I need to know about what's happened up to now." He folded his hands together on the table and leaned back in his chair, waiting.

Over the next fifteen minutes, they all took turns laying out what had happened throughout the long day. Andy thought long and hard and then met Annie's gaze. He frowned and turned back to the brothers.

"There's more, isn't there?" They looked at him in confusion. He looked back at Annie.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she knew. She felt it.

"You guys didn't tell me everything." Reproachful. She looked at them with a little sadness in her gaze. "There's more to this than just what's happened with Bobby and me today. There's more going on than what's happening with my family."

Sam looked at her, eyes searching her face before a sharp pain splintered through her head, causing a pain-filled gasp to punctuate the quiet.

She looked up, in confusion and then sudden understanding.

"This has something to do with you guys, with your family. This is more than some demon…it's personal." Tears leaked from her eyes as gasped, closing her eyes and sinking forward, unconscious.

The three men stared at her in shock for a moment, and then, together, launched into action.

Andy eased her to the floor and checked her pulse, pleased to find it still strong. Sam went and wet paper towels with cold water, wringing them out before handing them to Andy to put on her forehead. Dean held her hand, willing her to come to.

"What just happened here?" Andy watched Dean carefully, confusion marring his features.

"I'm not sure."

"I think I know…" They both looked up at Sam in surprise. "She's like me, Dean."

"You think she had a vision, or felt something?" He frowned, looking at her.

"Vision?" Andy's voice sounded almost strangled.

But Annie's eyes were starting to flutter open, and all conversation stopped as the three men watched her attempt to sit up. She backed into Andy, looking with confusion at Dean and Sam.

"What is going on with me?" Her eyes widened. "What is up with you guys?"

" I felt…I could tell…" She shook her head in confusion. "I somehow knew, when Andy said there was something more….I saw images, and felt thoughts and emotions. It was you guys, and kids that must…have…been you two. An older guy that must have been your dad…."

She met Sam's eyes with compassion.

"You lost someone important to you. Recently." She swallowed the bile coming up her throat. "I saw what happened, I think."

"And I saw another young man…" She paused, uncertain of the images. "He was killing his own family…by moving…things."

"Oh my gosh…"

It was all said quietly. Suddenly she jumped up and towards the sink. She lost the contents of her stomach in a violent upheaval. She cupped her hand and caught some water, rinsing her mouth before she swiped a shaking arm over her mouth.

"This demon has been after your family from the beginning?" She asked with growing understanding. "The same one after us? Why?"

"I wish we knew." It was Sam who quietly stood beside her. She flinched at the pain she saw in his eyes. "We've been trying to find it, our dad has been too. I wish I understood it all better."

His deep green eyes met hers and she realized there was still a little more.

"What just happened to me?" She braced herself as his eyes flashed.

"I think that you've just experienced your abilities. I think your mother died the same way mine did. And your dad died trying to save her." He paused, registering the pain in her eyes before continuing. "I don't know why, but for some reason I think the demon is trying to take away the people the mean the most to you. He's done it to me."

"My girlfriend, I was going to ask her to marry me." He added softly, not yet willing to share that secret with anyone else.

"So what, I've got some kind of psychic abilities now? I'm able to see things about people?" She looked lost. "I've never had anything like that happen before. I mean, I've had feelings about people before, but nothing that strong. Does that mean that Bobby is in danger because of me?"

She met Andy's eyes.

"Can a demon do that? Have a purpose like that?" Her voice broke.

"Demons are evil. They exist to cause evil in the world, they exist in opposition to God. I haven't read anything that says they can't have a plan and carry it through. Although a plan this complicated …" He shook his head, running his hand through his hair roughly.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I don't think this is the typical demon, I think it's more powerful. I feel it, in fact." He drew in a deep breath.

"What about me…since it's somehow connected to me…." Annie whispered. "Does this make me evil? These abilities? Powers? Are they from that thing?"

Andy took the steps across the kitchen to her and drew in against him for a solid hug.

"Annie, remember that ALL things work together for the glory of Christ." She looked up at him, shaking. "ALL things, Annie. If we are His children. And I know that you are a believer. He will work this according to his plan. It will be okay."

He looked at the brothers.

"I think we need a few minutes to pray." He met Sam and Dean's eyes. "You don't have to join us, although you are welcome to if you want."

"Actually, I think I'll go to the bathroom. That coffee…" Dean grimaced as his excuse sounded lame even to his own ears. He looked at Sam.

"I'll go check on Bobby." Sam was pretty proud of his ability to think of a good excuse.

They walked out of the kitchen, Dean crossing the living room to run up the stairs to the restroom there. Sam crossed to behind the couch, grinning to find Bobby still hunched over the huge book.

"Hey Bobby! Ready to take a break from all that reading?" He smiled when Bobby looked up, eyes scrunched.

"Brea'!" He agreed wholeheartedly, lighting up in a smile. He carefully eased the huge book off his lap and got up from the beanbag chair, stretching on his tiptoes. As he rolled back onto the bottoms of his feet, his face scrunched up again. Without warning, he took off awkwardly running up the stairs. Sam followed him, a little concerned.

He caught up with him in front of the bathroom door; he was pounding on the door and hopping from one foot to the other.

"Po'y, po'y!" (potty, potty) He was so busy concentrating on pounding on the door, he jumped when it suddenly opened and Dean appeared. Pushing past Dean, he disappeared into the bathroom with a growl.

They were still laughing as they turned to make their way downstairs. A toilet flushing preceded the bathroom door re-opening and a concerned Bobby rushing into the hallway.

"Hep' (help)." The brothers turned to look at the obviously agitated little boy. He was pulling the snap of his jeans together but was growing more upset by his inability to actually fasten the snap. He stomped his foot, looked up in Dean's direction, then grabbed his arm.

"Hep." He took Dean's hand. Surprised, Dean quickly surmised the little guy's problem and fastened the snap. He reached up absently and ruffled the brown mop of hair. Bobby slapped his hand away with a frown and then took off giggling down the stairs, one hand on the rail and the other playing with his own hair.

"I think he likes you." Sam grinned at Dean, moving to the side when his brother tried to elbow him. "Nice try."

They made their way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. The front door was standing open. Both brothers stared at it a moment before glancing behind them at the living room.

"Bobby!" Sam realized what had happened a split second before his brother and ran towards the door, Dean quickly on his heels. The child was not in sight.

"Annie!" Dean was back through the door first, heading towards the kitchen. "Annie…Bobby went out the front door…and we don't see him anywhere."

Her startled brown eyes grew wide in fright.

"Bobby!" She ran towards the front door, fumbling to slide into her shoes. She noticed, numbly, that Bobby's shoes were still by the front door. Sam was still scanning the area from the front yard. Dean and Andy were both on her heels.

"We were just coming down the stairs after him. He was only out of our sight for a second." Dean was speaking, but Annie couldn't listen.

"Okay, we have to split up. Andy, start going from house to house checking the yards." She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "Dean, the neighbors on this side have a swing set and sandbox that Bobby sometimes goes to…check there."

She chewed on her bottom lip. Then she met Sam's eyes.

"Usually if he runs, he'll go towards the back. You guys come with me and we'll split up in the back to look for him." She looked at her watch. 7:30. "Let's go, meet back here in ten minutes."

She took another deep breath.

Another.

"Guys, if we don't find him soon, he could really get himself into trouble. Usually he's not a runner…" She sighed. "But when he's run in the past, it's taken the police department's help to find him."

She trailed off. They all knew they didn't have that kind of time, and they didn't want that kind of attention. Everyone took off in their respective directions.

Two of the four were whispering similar prayers under their breath. _Lord, let him be okay. Let us find him. Please, Lord._

* * *

_OK folks - I'm starved for that affection, please review if you liked it or have constructive criticism! After all, reviews feed the aspiring writer -----Kat_


	7. Chapter 7

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 7 "Caught"  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** A new enemy comes to play, catching a Winchester and Bobby.

**_Chapter 7 - Caught_ **

Mr. Daniel Larkin had never been so ticked off in his life.

As if he wanted to try and apologize to this little Carver twerp about how he had acted towards her. But the rebuke had been quite clear. He either made this go away or the results would be swift.

He would be out of a job.

He couldn't help it that his department knew how to anger the multitudes that passed through the ER. Or that the ER department, during his shift no less, had managed to accumulate close to fifty complaints in the last three months. It wasn't his fault. And it wasn't fair that his job was on the line.

He sighed, looked at the street sign and realized he was about a block away from the Carver residence. He stopped at the red sign absentmindedly, trying to form the stupid words he would use with the girl.

This was his life, he sneered to himself, and on a Saturday night no less.

He sure hoped her buddies weren't around. He loosened the collar of his shirt as fear snaked its way down his spine. The one who had whispered in his ear scared him silly.

Lost in his thoughts, he wasn't aware of the oppressive black mist that snaked its way through the open window. He turned just in time to open his mouth to scream. But no sound came out of his open mouth as the mist penetrated his body and mind.

Mr. Larkin was no longer in control.

The blackness ruled.

His master would be pleased.

Black eyes stared at the street signs and a grim smile graced the lips as he turned the corner and then turned again to go down the alley he knew would be there.

The cold eyes absorbed the scene in front of him as he slowed the car.

Here was his prey, the little brother.

The smile widened. This was going to be too easy.

Not really one for conversation, he stepped out of the car and forward swiftly, swinging wide at the small body barreling past him. Hm. The child must not have been paying attention. Black eyes studied the still form at his feet dispassionately.

He bent to scoop the prey up, but paused as he shifted him over his shoulder, aware of another threat barreling through the shrubbery. He tossed the limp body into the back of the car and turned to meet his new threat.

Tall and lanky, the hunter poised in front of him, tensed and arms poised for a fight. Here was a different brother. Dangerous. For most men, he was dangerous. But he was not most men. He was above them.

"What do you think you're doing?" It was a dangerous voice, but he was unconcerned. "Hey!"

He jumped with unnatural grace to stand directly in front of the tall man. While he was shorter, he did have the element of surprise. He swung forcefully, striking hard and fast. It also helped to have supernatural strength. He smirked at the look of surprise on the young man's face.

He recognized the look of comprehension that graced the face, acknowledged the dangerous glint that his deep eyes now possessed.

"Dean!" The man screamed for his brother over his shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. He dared to speak forcefully to him. "You can't take him."

Hearing an answering yell and the soft sounds of pounding footsteps, the demon regarded the newest threat. His eyes narrowed. He would just have to take him as well.

His prey shifted position, preparing. He blocked the first hard jab, stumbling to the side slightly. The demon smiled grimly, and planted a fist squarely into the man's midsection, doubling him over. His prey tried to block it, tried to throw an effective punch back in his direction. It didn't work.

He hit the man on the side of the head with a dismissive show of strength. The hunter crumbled to the ground, as he knew would happen.

The footfalls were closer now, and another figure broke through the shrubbery, stumbling. The demon easily picked up the gangly man, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He glared at the man who rushed forward and jerked his head, sending him in the air to land in a soft thump on the ground several feet away.

He pushed his newest charge into the back of the car roughly and shut the back door. He gazed over at the other man, who was standing, glaring back at him. A small figure bounded through the shrubbery behind him and stopped behind the other hunter's arm.

"Stop, Annie. He has Sam." His eyes narrowed. "And I think he has your brother too."

"Mr. Larkin?" The brown eyes widened in quick realization. "You're not Mr. Larkin."

With a flick of his wrist, the two flew backwards, landing on the ground hard. Annie looked up, brown eyes terrified as she took in the sight before her.

Bobby's head was leaning against the window, his hand pounding weakly against it. His eyes were barely open, and a small trickle of blood ran down the side of his face.

Annie was helpless to stop that thing as it glanced dismissively at her and then ran to get behind the wheel of the car. She was struggling to her feet as the car sped away.

"Bobby." Tears started slowly down her cheeks, and she wiped them away angrily.

"Sam." Dean was on his feet, watching the car speed away with a hard glint to his hazel eyes.

Their eyes met; twin echoes of hurt. Dean pulled her against his chest, felt her sobs as she tried to stop them.

"We'll get them back, Annie. I promise." He gritted his teeth. "Besides, Sam's with him, and he won't let anything happen to Bobby either."

A rustling behind them signaled the arrival of Andy. He knew at a glance something was wrong.

"What happened?"

* * *

This was wrong.

Dark, and scary.

He didn't know what to think about this place. But it wasn't a place he knew, and that scared him.

Annie wasn't here, and that scared him too. He had called her name, louder and louder. But she wasn't here.

This room was small, and he only saw a door, and the bed he was laying on.

His head hurt. He thought he hit something, before he was here. But he wasn't sure. It was so fast. He had been playing a trick on Annie; running, giggling. And now he was here.

He sat up slow. The air was cold here. He shivered. He reached for the blanket but felt something else and snatched his hand away.

He turned to look. It wasn't a blanket; it was a man. He leaned closer, trying to see in the dark.

Sam.

He touched the man. Poked his shoulder.

Nothing.

Something was wrong. He pressed his other hand against Sam's chest. It moved.

He pushed against the chest, wanting Sam to wake up. He used both hands to try and shake Sam's chest. He was more scared now. But if Sam would wake up he knew he would feel better.

He had to look closer. He leaned over, pressing both hands against Sam as he looked close at his face. There was something on the side of his face. What was that? He reached up and touched Sam's face. It was sticky.

"Sa'?" Sam needed to wake up now. He wanted Sam to open his eyes now. He pushed his chest again, harder. Move! "Wa'up, Sa'." (wake up Sam)

Nothing.

It was hard to say the words. They worked in his head, but not his mouth. He growled in anger. He needed to do something. This was wrong. This was too much.

He started the small swaying motion without thought. He just wanted to feel better. Rocking was good. It helped.

He backed away. He was so scared. He hit his head with his hands. Again. Harder. Crying now. Hitting. But it didn't help. Rocking helped. Hurting didn't. So he stopped.

_God, please help._

He felt the bed move, and stopped rocking.

Sam?

He looked over and saw dark eyes watching him. Sam! He put his head on Sam's chest. He heard Sam make a sound but he stayed there. Sam made him feel better too.

* * *

He came to, feeling the bed he was on rocking slightly. At first he didn't remember what had happened. He racked his brain trying to remember why he felt like he'd gone ten rounds and lost.

His eyes flew open as everything came crashing back.

Bobby!

He shifted on his side, just a little concerned to find his hands trapped behind his back.

He found out why the bed was rocking. Bobby must be terrified. He stopped rocking suddenly, as he realized Sam was staring at him. He was about to say something when the little guy just plowed into his chest.

He groaned.

He couldn't help it. His ribs were really tender. But he bit back the pain. Bobby was shaking, great sobs racking his little body as he pushed his head firmly against Sam. A very scared Bobby hug. Poor little guy.

"Hey little guy." He wanted to reassure him. But since he couldn't even hold him with his arms stuck behind him, he would settle for getting the little man to calm down.

"Bobby, hey ..." He tried to sit up, which was difficult with the child attached to him. But he did finally manage to rotate his legs out and sit up. Bobby loosened his grasp when he realized what Sam was trying to do.

It was awkward, at best, trying to position himself without the use of his arms. He was about to lean back against the wall when something on Bobby's face stopped him. He was watching Sam and put his hand on Sam's left arm. He peered around Sam's back and followed the long arm down to where it was attached to his other arm. Sam startled to feel a little hand feeling the ropes that dug into his wrists, pulling.

"Hey, no¼it's okay Bobby." He didn't want to see that look on the child's face. It was a question. Sam realized the little boy just didn't understand enough about what was going on. What was he supposed to tell him?

It seemed he understood more than Sam had at first realized, as a lone tear snaked its way down a dirty cheek.

"Sa' hur'?(Sam hurt?)" Brown eyes made almost painful contact with his own. Oh yes, the child understood something. "Ro' hur'(Rope hurt?)? Cu ro' (cut rope?)?"

The child jumped off the bed, looking around anxiously. Puzzled, Sam just watched him dart from side to side of the small room.

Several minutes later, he was watching with a growing fascination as the child studied the room in detail. He'd searched along the walls and floorboards, the entire breadth of the floor and was now on his stomach peering under the dark recesses that hid beneath the bed.

He'd tried several times to convince him to stop. Asked him to come give him a hug. He begged him to just sit on the bed. The little kid growled at him.

Growled.

That had almost caused Sam to laugh hilariously. Lot of good he was to Bobby. The child wasn't put off by his puppy dog look – he wouldn't even look into his eyes. Frustrated, he decided at some point the child would just tire out and stop this new obsession of his.

A happy cry from Bobby's lips pulled him away from those frustrated thoughts, and he leaned over to see what had captured the boy's attention.

Bobby had stopped peering underneath the bed and was crouched by the side, fiddling with something on the foot of the bed. Sam squinted, what was that? Bobby paused and graced Sam with a head tilt and brown-eyed gaze that spoke volumes about the boy's excitement. He could sense the boy wanting to share something with him.

"What is it Bobby? What did you find?" Sam scooted over to the edge of the bed, lowering himself onto his knees by the side of the bed.

"Cu' Ro'! (Cut Rope)" Bobby exclaimed happily, pulling Sam over to where had just been sitting.

"Careful, dude. Sam's not that steady on his knees. What did you find, there, kiddo?" He grinned at the excitement in the boy's face and peered a little closer at the thing that had captured the child's interest.

"Cu' ro', cu' ro'!" Bobby obviously thought something was capable of cutting the rope on Sam's wrists.

And as he figured out what the small object was that had the boy so excited, Sam couldn't help but grin a little wider. It was a long nail, sticking out at a weird angle. To anyone else, it might have seemed insignificant. How Bobby had realized that it was worth a lot more he wasn't going to question.

"Good job, Bobby!" Bobby grinned, giggled and started fiddling with his hair. He scooted back as Sam sat down and maneuvered himself to work on the ropes at his wrists.

The nail was a bit twisted, rusty and had some sharp points where it had been dealt the wrong end of a hammer during its life. It wasn't easy, and it took forever, but the nail eventually pulled and shredded enough of the ropes. Sam felt the give and grinned widely, pulling his hands apart in victory.

He turned and saw Bobby, still playing with his hair, behind him. The sight of the little boy brought him up short though. He was rocking gently, front to back, head cocked to the side. A distant expression was sheltered in his deep brown eyes.

Sam sighed. He looked Bobby over carefully, gazing critically at the knot visible on the side of child's head. A small trail of blood had snaked its way down the side of his head and in front of his ear, drying into a hard line. Slight trembling accompanied the rocking child.

He didn't even have shoes on. He was just a kid. Innocent.

"Bobby?" The little guy flinched from the sound of his voice. Obviously he had been lost deep within his own world for a time. His eyes focused Sam, meeting his eyes with just a flicker of his own brown ones.

His eyes suddenly found the bracelet on Sam's wrist quite fascinating. He reached out, touched the leather bracelet, and then snatched his hand back.

"Hey there, it's going to be okay Bobby. We'll get out of this." Sam had noticed the sudden fascination. "Here, buddy, you want to wear it for a little while?"

He slipped the leather from his wrist and waited for Bobby to extend his wrist. He let the boy push his wrist through the bracelet himself.

Bobby grinned, and then surprised Sam with his own brand of affection. A Bobby hug. This time, Sam didn't even flinch at the pain as the child launched his small body headfirst into his mid-section. He gathered the child close and pulled him tight against him. He was a little surprised the child allowed it, but grateful.

"Why don't we get a little more comfortable, okay?" Comfortable: In a room that was serving as their prison. Yeah. Sure. Sam laughed inwardly at the irony of it all.

He knew he should go check the lock on that door, but the little boy in his arms claimed his attention first. He lifted the boy and unsteadily moved to his feet. Then he settled on the bed, curving the small body more comfortably into his own as he backed against the wall.

"We will get out of here, kiddo. I swear. And I bet my brother and your sister will go crazy trying to help." He'd seen a lot of the same protectiveness in Annie that his own brother often showed. And he was sure they were doing all they could to get them out of this.

"You know, Bobby. This might be a good time for me to brush up on my Latin." Chuckling at the absurdity of it all, he shook his head. "I bet yours is better than mine, though, huh? Those bad guys won't know what they've messed with once we start exorcizing their ... behinds."

The steady breathing from the small form in his arms gave rise to a surge of protectiveness in Sam. He huddled the child a bit closer to him, trying desperately to believe in his ability to protect them.

But frankly, he knew they were screwed.

On the positive side, at least Bobby wasn't alone.

* * *

I could use some of that review lovin' - really! wink

---Kat


	8. Chapter 8

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 8 "Lost and Found"  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Dean, Annie and Andy search for clues while Sam and Bobby try and insure their survival.

_Chapter 8 - "Lost and Found" _

"I've got a hit." Dean rubbed his temple, stress pounding away at his head like a jackhammer. They had rushed back to the Carver house after reality hit them all like a sack of potatoes. Less than an hour had passed while they struggled to figure out their first step and started researching.

The easiest lead had obviously been to try and find Larkin. Dean's eyes glittered dark and furious, shifting with his mood. It was doubtful they would find Bobby and Sam at the man's house, but maybe they could at least find a lead. The trusty laptop had worked fast, securing the address of one Daniel Larkin.

"You don't think that they're at his house." It was a softly spoken statement, echoing his own thoughts. Annie met his eyes, unflinching, from across the table. "I'm not stupid. He wouldn't have just taken them back there, possessed or not."

Dean nodded, feeling the pastor's eyes now on them as well.

"You're hoping to find something out there? A clue?" The man was sitting beside him, temple resting on one hand, as he gazed at first Annie, then Dean.

"He didn't even have his shoes on." It was a sad statement of fact. Annie closed her eyes, rubbing the pain away with white knuckles. "He was just trying to have a little fun."

Dean swallowed. He understood the woman's agony. He shifted in his chair. His brother was out there too. He covered her hand with his own, squeezing gently. Then he pushed the emotion back. He had to.

"We'll find them, Annie. We will." He glanced at the screen in front of him and tapped it. "We can start by looking here. See if anything turns up."

"We've got to do something else first." It was a quiet, almost stern statement. Dean looked at the big man in surprise.

"What?" Dean was confused. What could possibly come before tracking down a lead?

"We need to pray." There it was; another quiet statement. Dean's eyes widened.

"Our brothers are missing, kidnapped. And you want to stop and pray?" He was incredulous.

"You're forgetting an important reality, here, Dean." The pastor leaned forward, meeting Dean's eyes steadily. "You think a demon is involved, or has been involved, in all of this. Demons are evil creatures. They only have one true enemy, whether you choose to believe it or not - and that's God. Anyone or anything else here on earth is secondary."

"We need to pray, before we do anything else." Dean blinked. He understood the pastor had a relationship going with the guy upstairs. He shifted uncomfortably. But that didn't mean that he had to. He looked up, prepared to argue.

But he wasn't even given a chance.

Instead, Annie grabbed one hand gently in her own, while Andy grabbed the other. He looked at his hands, considered pulling free. But their eyes closed, and their faces were already relaxed into alarming reflections of peacefulness.

His eyebrows raised and he blew air through his tightly clenched teeth in an effort to calm himself.

_Man!_

He'd only prayed, seriously, a few times in his life. He didn't count the whispered curses and bargains he had struck over the years. He was pretty sure the man upstairs wouldn't either. But maybe he could make an exception this time.

Okay, fine.

He closed his eyes and listened.

"Lord, we come before you in hopes that you would strengthen us during this difficult time. Keep us strong, grant us wisdom, hold our faith firm. Lord, please help us find these missing boys. Protect them from harm and strengthen them." A deep breath punctuated the silence as Andy gathered his thoughts.

"Lord, protect Bobby especially. In his innocence he's likely to be extra scared and confused. We pray that you would help calm him. Put your words in his heart to strengthen him." Another pause; another deep breath.

"We lift up Sam and ask that you would strengthen him as well. Help him to stay focused, stay strong. Help him and give him wisdom, Lord." A sigh.

"Keep them safe, Lord and protect them from the evil one. Give us all the courage and wisdom to fight this evil, prepare us for this battle." Dean felt pressure on his hand. "In Jesus' name we pray, amen."

Annie echoed the "amen", and, with slight hesitation, Dean did as well.

He wouldn't admit it, but he did feel calmer. He had to hope that the big man upstairs was listening and acting on Andy's quiet words. He cleared his throat and opened his eyes. Their hands were still joined. He let go first, dropping them like they were on fire. He ran a hand through his hair, an absent gesture to try and re-focus on the job at hand.

"I'll go check out this Larkin's house - see if I can find anything helpful." Dean was standing up when Annie's hand stopped him. He looked down at her as she stood.

"I'm going too." Dean was about to shake his head when her hardened eyes broke his resistance. "He's my brother. I have to do something."

"We should all go. Three sets of eyes will search faster." Andy stood to his full height. "Besides - you might need backup."

The pastor frowned.

"You know, we should probably practice and perfect at least one passage of the Ritual. In case we need to send anything back to hell." He sounded like his relished the thought a bit too exuberantly for a holy man. Dean smirked.

"Van Helsing wanna-be?" He met the pastor's eyes with a dry chuckle.

"No, not really. I imagine that's more up your alley. Consider me your own personal exorcist." He grinned at Dean. "Of course, I'm nothing like the one in the movie."

Both men pushed their tightly wound emotions to the side and grinned at each other.

Annie cleared her throat.

"Are you guys done playing movie buffs?" Her eyes had narrowed. "We have a job to do."

Chastised, the men hung their heads for a second as Annie huffed past them.

"So, should I just call you Father Merrin?" Dean whispered. He grunted at the punch to his shoulder.

"Only if I can call you Van Helsing." The pastor replied dryly, receiving a slight punch to his own shoulder in return. His grin fell and eyes hardened. "If only fighting evil was like in the movies. In a couple hours this would all be over and everyone would be safe, the bad guys dealt with."

"Yeah, well, we left happy endings behind a long time ago." Dean replied, his eyes cold and dangerous. The joking around couldn't distract him from the cold, hard reality anymore.

* * *

Andy blinked.

Was Dean supposed to be that efficient at picking locks? He shook his head in bewilderment. _Forgive us Lord_.

He followed Dean into the dark, silent house and Annie followed softly behind him. He really didn't like having her involved, but he sensed she was supposed to be here with them.

They could keep her safe if they could keep an eye on her. Not that he would ever be so unwise as to share that revelation with her.

He shook the rambling thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. He wasn't sure what they should be looking for in this man's home. A clue. That much he knew. But what?Help us find something, Lord. Please. His silent prayers always filled him with comfort.

By unspoken agreement, he and Dean split. Annie stayed close to him. Dean moved towards the back of the small home while they worked around the edge of the living room.

"What are we looking for exactly?" Annie's nervous whisper made him smile. At least he wasn't alone in his confusion.

"I'm not sure - anything that might give us a clue as to where else he could have taken Bobby and Sam. Possessed or not, he still has some physical limitations." He sounded much more sure than he felt. "It's a good possibility that he took them someplace that his host, Mr. Larkin, would have already been familiar with."

"Okay. So I'll start with his files. Maybe he owns some other kind of property¼" Annie was off. She had already spotted a large file cabinet in the corner by the computer center.

Andy watched her move silently around furniture and turned to look at the pictures gracing the entertainment center shelving. His eyes narrowed on a picture and he picked it up, moving it into the beam of his flashlight.

It was a picture of the esteemed Mr. Larkin, holding up a fish. But the background was what had caught his eye. A small cabin stood back behind some trees, almost hidden in the background of the shot. He put the picture to the side, intending on showing it to Dean. A clue, maybe?

He wandered through the living area, and peeked around a doorway into a small kitchen, then glanced back to see Annie sifting through the file cabinet. She was concentrating on pulling out paperwork.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen and started looking at the paperwork sprawled over the table there. Bills. He looked at them just to be sure. Yep. The man had lots of bills. He poked through them and frowned in thought as one caught his attention.

The rest had all been household or credit card bills. But this one was for maintenance and development fees. That was odd. He studied the paper. It looked like fees associated with a development on a lake. The itemized portion included road paving and lake clean-up. A housing association fee.

His gaze narrowed - he wondered if this was connected to the fishing picture from the front room. Maybe he owned the property in that picture? If not, this paper meant he did own some other property. He kept the bill and kept looking around the kitchen.

Just a few dirty dishes in the sink. He couldn't fathom a demon caring whether there were clean dishes. So probably a recent possession. A letter discarded on the kitchen counter caught his attention and he picked it up, reading it.

Interesting.

It seemed Mr. Larkin was in danger of losing his job. He had some trouble with repeated complaints in the ER department. He kept this letter too. He silently paced the kitchen to see if anything else seemed important. He looked up as Annie walked in softly.

"I might have found something. I don't know." She bit her lip. She met his eyes and then handed him the piece of paper she clutched. "I found property tax records for a lakefront property."

She looked curiously at the papers he held already.

"I know that area. It's fairly remote. It's pretty pricey because there aren't that many homes up that way. The ones that are there are isolated from one another." She looked into his eyes again. "It sounds like the kind of place you could hide someone, right?"

He grinned.

"I think we might have found that elusive clue, Annie." He looked up sharply as Dean came in at.

"Anything?" Dean look upset. "Not much back there. Looked like he had slept in his bed recently. So he was probably possessed pretty recently. Everything looks lived in, not neglected."

"I mean, it was just earlier today that we saw him at the hospital. And while he was a world class . . ." he looked quickly at Andy. ". . . jerk, he didn't seem to be possessed. Of course, we weren't looking for it. Still . . ."

He trailed off, noticing the papers Andy held.

"You guys find something?" He reached for the paper Annie had and studied it. "What else?"

Andy handed him the other couple papers.

"Looks like we have a good lead here." He looked at the third paper and then glanced at Annie. "And it looks like Mr. Larkin might have had a really good reason for being such a jerk today, Annie."

She looked at him, a question in her gaze. Then she glanced at Andy. Dean handed her the paper, and her eyes grew wide as she read it.

"No wonder he seemed so upset. He was close to losing his job." She looked up. "My complaint would have been the one to get him fired."

"So, possessed or not, the man's trouble." Dean said grimly.

"Annie, you said you knew where this lake was?" Andy questioned her quietly, changing the subject. At her nod, he turned to Dean. "Maybe we ought to find this property and see if anyone's been to visit recently."

Dean glanced over at Annie. She looked determined. If not for the trembling of the paper she held in her hands, he would have thought her made of ice. He caught Andy's eye and the big man nodded slightly. They could both see how close to the edge she was.

"We won't have enough room for Bobby and Sam if we only take the impala, I'll drive too." Andy offered. He looked at Annie. "How far away is this place?"

"About an hour, hour and a half, maybe?" Annie shut her eyes briefly, and a look of pain crossed her features. A slight shake of the head, and her eyes were open. "We need to find a map of the roads around there, some of the properties are really hidden along back roads up to the lakefront."

"Maybe Mr. Larkin can help us with that." Dean had crossed the living room and was sifting through the file cabinet. A few moments later, he held up a file triumphantly. "I figured he had the property records in there, he probably had some other property info too. Looks like I hit the jackpot."

The map folded out to about three foot square. They spread it on the kitchen table and studied it. Dean pointed to a black line. "Here's the main road in, so we can take 65 straight in and then catch 121. But where is Arrowhead Lane at?"

They all studied the map intently for several minutes. The elusive road listed on the property tax records was thoroughly hidden. Just as they were about to give up, Annie cried out.

"There it is - along the side of the lake, opposite where we need to go in at." She pointed at a small line on the other side of the lake on the map. She caught her breath. "We better get going - it's going to take a while to get there. And if they aren't there . . ."

She couldn't finish the thought. No one else wanted to finish it either. Because if this was a dead end, they were back to square one, with no leads at all.

* * *

Locked.

Of course it was locked. Sam shook his head. After listening to Bobby's steady breathing for a while, he had finally eased the child onto the bed and made a break for the door. It was locked, which really was no surprise.

But a guy could hope, right?

He wondered where they were. His watch had stopped, probably broken in the fight with that thing in Larkin's body. He figured, at best, it had been an hour, maybe a couple hours. Or maybe he had lost all track of time. With no window, and no other way to tell the passage from day to night, who could really tell?

He glanced over at Bobby again. Still sleeping. Hopefully he slept for a while.

He realized he was pacing the small confines of the room and brought himself to a stop.

This sucked.

He was about to go sit back down beside Bobby when he heard footsteps outside the door. He stepped in front of Bobby's form on the bed and tensed, fists curled.

As the door swung open, he found himself face to face with Larkin, who smirked at him.

"Why are we here?" Right to the point, Sam thought grimly. Like the bad guys always fell over themselves to provide answers.

"You were just an inconvenience. It's not your time yet. The boy, however - my master is intrigued with him. And wants his sister." Larkin moved forward, his eyes on Bobby's still form.

"Get away from him. He's just a little boy." Sam spoke more confidently than he felt. Larkin paused, considering him. "Just leave him alone."

Larkin averted his eyes for just a moment, and then he met Sam's eyes with his black empty ones. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw two other men enter the room. They moved swiftly to stand on either side of him.

Sam shifted on his heels, thinking furiously. As they each moved to grab an arm, he dropped, swinging his leg in an arc. One man dropped, but not for long. Sam pushed up and forward at the same time, propelling the second man off-balance.

He felt the other guy behind him and sprung up. He used his elbow and viciously jabbed him in the stomach. He spun around to again face the first man.

Larkin's cold eyes were observing the fight with a small frown.

"Enough!" Larkin's raised voice brought Sam's eyes to him.

He bored his eyes into Sam and suddenly Sam was flung against the opposite wall. He was pinned several inches off the floor, his head forced brutally into the wooden structure. His body was still stinging from the impact as he tried to focus on the man walking towards him.

"You are more trouble than you're worth. What the master sees in you . . ." He shifted his eyes and settled in front of Sam. He narrowed his eyes, and Sam felt a massive punch in his mid-section. He swallowed, bit back the pain and glared at the man in front of him. Another punch. Sam couldn't stop the gasp of pain, even though he swallowed it as fast as he could. He hated the effort it took to shift his head. But he managed the fraction of an inch necessary to follow the demon's movements.

The icy grin on the monster's face just helped fuel Sam's anger, and he struggled internally to fight his brutal imprisonment against the hard wall. At times like these, he really wished he could control his powers. He closed his eyes in frustration.

And then he heard Bobby. It seemed Larkin did too, as he turned sharply towards the boy. He was whispering, his face a study in concentration. His eyes were closed. With effort, Sam struggled to turn his head and focus on him. What was he saying?

"In finem, pro his qui immutabuntur, in tituli inscriptionem ipsi David, in doctrinam," The Latin words rolled from the child's tongue like poetry. But Sam hadn't heard this version. He picked a few words out, and the boy continued his melodic chant in the ancient language.

"Cum succendit Mesopotamiam Syriæ et Sobal, et convertit Joab, et percussit Idumæam in valle Salinarum duodecim millia." By now, the Latin words seemed to have a life of their own, flowing from the child's mouth unchecked. Larkin seemed unable to move any closer to the child. His legs trembled as he strained to get to him. He glared back at Sam.

Unfortunately for Sam, the possessed man was able to move away from Bobby just fine.

The words continued.

"Deus, repulisti nos, et destruxisti nos; iratus es, et misertus es nobis¼" The voice continued on, quietly, sweetly; in childish innocence. Sam couldn't listen anymore, he was staring into the face of evil itself as Larkin moved again to face Sam. He glared.

"You need a child to protect you, hunter?" He spat. His eyes bored into Sam's, causing a headache to form in an agonizing explosion of pain. Sam bit back his cry of agony. He could feel the blood as it tickled a path from his nose to glide over his top lip. He shut his eyes and willed the pain away.

It didn't work

And then, suddenly, it did.

The agony lessoned. Just a little. But to Sam's pain-filled thoughts, the relief was enough.

He opened his eyes and stared in surprise.

Larkin's face was twisted in pain, head averted slightly as his breath hitched in his throat.

He turned and met Sam's eyes again. There was no further pain for Sam, just black, empty eyes. And Larkin turned to leave, jerking his head at his two helpers. Sam realized they had been on the floor, writhing. They stood up, slowly making progress towards the door.

The door closed and a lock clicked into place.

Sam slid to the floor in a heap. He heard Bobby in the background, still speaking softly in his small voice. He smiled a slight smile. He had understood enough words to recognize the child was repeating some verses from the Bible, but he couldn't determine which ones.

He fought against the dizziness, swallowed against the pain.

He realized what the demon had said was true. Bobby's quiet Latin had somehow hurt that prick enough to weaken him. Bobby had just saved them both.

Crazy.

Awesome.

"In Deo faciemus virtutem; et ipse ad nihilum deducet tribulantes nos." Bobby's voice finished the verses and then his small voice carried on, eyes still closed.

"God. Hep' Sam. Hep' Bobby. Peas'. Amen." (God. Help Sam. Help Bobby. Please. Amen) The soft brown eyes opened and met his own with startling clarity.

"Ba' ting' hur' Sam. Spec'l wor's hep." (Bad thing. Hurt Sam. Special words help.) Then the eye contact was broken, and the boy fiddled with the leather bracelet on his wrist, turning it, twisting it.

He dragged himself over to the bed, pulling up weakly and falling against the side of the bed painfully. He'd have to wait a minute to get up on the bed. His ribs were protesting a little too intensely against the movement, and his head felt like it was going to explode. He closed his eyes against the pain, and them opened them again to gaze at the little boy in front of him.

"Bobby, you spoke Latin. Were those some of your special words?" He didn't expect an answer. "Buddy you just saved Sam's behind."

He chuckled dryly.

"You're a smart little guy. Just how much Latin do you know?" He studied Bobby as another question came to him. "How did you know that you should speak those special words? How did you know what they would do?"

He looked at the little guy in wonder. When he spoke again, it surprised him.

"Sah'm fi'ty ni'." He worked hard to make the "m" sound. Psalm 59. Hmm. Sam pondered that bit of information. He had no clue what Psalm 59 said, but thought he might just look it up if they ever got out of here. Bobby's next words stopped his thoughts cold.

"Spec'l wor's ma' ba' tings' go 'way." (Special words make bad thing go away) Bobby wasn't looking at him, but he was obviously listening, and he undoubtedly understood way too much about what was going on.

"How did you know that, Bobby?" Sam stared at the boy, trying to understand how a child could barely speak English and yet understand that the "bad things" would go away if you spoke Latin.

Silence. And then . . .

"Mama say." Quiet words. The little guy studied his jeans. "Mama say. Mama an'l. An'l don' lie." (Mama say. Mama angel. Angel don't lie.)

Unsure if it was something his mom told him a long time ago or if his dead mother was giving her child hints from beyond, Sam stayed silent. Huh. Autism or not, this kid was something else.

Sam took a deep breath, and then braced his hands on the bed, pushing hard to bring his sore body up on wobbly knees. He gritted his teeth against the pain and about crawled up onto the bed, positioning himself beside Bobby. Man, his whole body hurt. And his head . . .

He couldn't complete the thought as the pain in his head ratcheted up a notch. Blackness took over as his body slid to the side.

_They were in another room. _

_Bobby was in front of him, eyes wide. There was a cloth tied around his mouth. His arms were drawn behind his back. He sat on the floor at Sam's feet. Rocking. Shivering. Bare feet poked out from under his jeans. _

_Sam was in a chair, arms behind him around the back of the chair. His head lolled to the side. He was gagged, although it appeared a mute point, since he was unconscious._

_Dean was pinned to the wall opposite them, glaring at Larkin. Andy was in a similar position on another wall. He was whispering something under his breath, face __calm__ and eyes closed to the scene unfolding in front of him. _

_And then something happened. Something shifted in the room. Larkin turned and closed his eyes. Black mist flowed out of him, slipping through the floorboards _

_There was a scream. Annie. The scene swung out to include her, held still between two men with blank eyes. But she was struggling. Stomping her foot hard on one man's foot, she jerked from him. But the other held on, making her freedom incomplete. She glared at them, eyes filling with tears. _

_"No! Stop it." She was pleading. _

_Larkin took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and turned to face Annie, golden eyes malicious as they roamed the room to find her. He grinned, and suddenly Larkin's face had never seemed more sinister._

_"You can end this all, Annabelle. Choose. Now." His eyes glittered in enjoyment. _

_He smiled grimly at her._

Sam jerked to awareness as the images paraded across his mind's eye.

The vision was brutal in its intensity. Sam was having a hard time controlling the nausea, and if that jackhammer didn't stop in his head sometime soon, he was going to scream.

Maybe not.

He mulled over the images. Such intensity. Dean hurt, maybe dying. He was out for the count. Whatever Andy seemed to be doing in the background didn't seem to be doing much. Sam ran a hand over his face, rubbing the pain from his eyes. It didn't help.

A choice for Annie.

But Bobby. Man. He had to find a way to protect that little guy. And Dean. He ran his hand through his hair. What could he do? God, he hated feeling helpless.

He suddenly looked over to find Bobby huddled beside him, rocking. He was facing Sam, and staring at him.

"Hey there, kiddo." Bobby looked away quickly, but not before Sam made out the shine of tears on his cheeks. "You wanna come and sit on Sam's lap?"

He pushed the pain away as the child climbed on his lap, settling comfortably against Sam's chest. He was still trembling. At this point, Sam felt like joining him.

As they sat there, Sam thought over their options. And they were limited. Dying really wasn't in his plan. He suddenly had a thought.

"Hey, there, buddy. You wanna help Sam out? You know, your Latin is so good, and I think you know more of it than me - you want to help me learn some of it?" Sam held his breath. He had a goal in mind here.

"La'n. Spec'l wor's." Bobby said softly.

"That's right, buddy. But your Latin is really, really good. You know, Bobby, I wonder if you know a special set of those special words. Do you know the De exorcizandis obsessis a daemonio of The Rituale Romanum?" He held his breath. He actually knew this text, had memorized it in the past. But it had been so long ago; and it was a hard piece of text to learn in the first place, and so long.

"Oratio, Psalmus et exorcismus." Softly spoken again: Prayer, Psalm and Exorcism. Sam thought the child could probably teach with the best of them.

"That's right, little guy. Oratio. What Psalm though? We should just choose one." The formal Roman Ritual of Exorcism included countless prayers, Psalms and texts of exorcism.

They didn't have time to go through that much. Sam figured they could use one basic prayer, pick one Psalm and choose one section of the exorcism. Recite it over and over again and wait for the right opportunity.

And pray.

"Psalmus quinquaginta et tres." Psalm 53. Sam looked at Bobby. "'S shor' (it's short)"

That little squirt had a twinkle in his eye, and even though he didn't make eye contact, Sam heard him loud and clear. The boy understood: Short and sweet. That's what they needed to concentrate on.

"Let's start with the prayer, then the psalm, and then the exorcism." Sam grinned at Bobby. "Ready to go, kiddo?"

"Oratio? Oremus. Deus, et Pater Fomini nostri jesu Chrisi, invoco nomen sanctum tuum, et clementiam tuam supplex . . ." It only went on for a couple of minutes. And it was a short prayer. Sam grinned. This kid knew his stuff.

They repeated the Prayer, going back and forth. After a dozen times (it seemed like more, Sam thought), Bobby stopped and cocked his head to the side. He smiled a gentle smile.

"Psalmus? Psalmus quinquaginta et tres . . ." Bobby paused again, and then started the verses.

"Deus, in nominee tuo salvum me fac: et in virtute tua judica me..." Sam looked at Bobby and grinned. He really was cut out to be a teacher. He had paused for Sam to repeat. And he obliged.

"Deus, in nominee tuo salvum me fac: et in virtute tua judica me..." Sam's intonation was close to Bobby's. Psalm 53 was a short Psalm, but still longer than the prayer had been. They spent a lot longer repeating the verses back and forth.

Time for the real deal, the exorcism itself.

"Exorcismus?" Bobby questioned softly: Exorcism?

"Yeah. You ready?" Bobby met his eyes for a second with a grin. The kid really loved this stuff, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle.

He must be a geek, they were trapped here and both were smiling about repeating Latin phrases back and forth. If Dean could see him now, he'd never live this down. He grinned.

"Exorcizo te. Immundissime spiritus. Omnis incursio adversarii, omne phantasma, omnis legio, in nominee Domini nostri Jesu Christi . . ." They murmured the words back and forth with careful pronunciations. This time, the length of the passages meant that they took even longer.

They had plenty of time, though. Wasn't much else they could do here.

As they finished, Sam considered their options.

It had to be getting close to nighttime and they had repeated the prayer, Psalm and Exorcism enough to at least mostly memorize them. Well, Bobby had it memorized already, and Sam mostly did. Grin.

He needed to make sure Bobby got the ultimate goal here, though.

"Bobby, we're going to rest a little here, but before we do I need you to listen carefully. Anytime you are scared, anytime a bad thing is around, anytime you want to, even, start reciting." Bobby looked up, cocking his head to the side. Sam could tell he was listening. "Go through the prayer, the Psalm and the Exorcism and just keep repeating them, okay?"

No reply.

"Bobby, this is really important. No matter what, you have to keep repeating them, especially if the bad things are around." He leaned forward to gaze into the child's fixed gaze. He was frustrated by the lack of response.

"Bobby, hey guy, I know you're listening. So no matter what you have to remember that, okay?" Something in Bobby's eyes flickered, and Sam took that as an affirmative. "If you can't talk, you say it in your head, okay kiddo?"

He remembered the gag over Bobby's mouth from his vision. He didn't think the exorcism would be as effective if it wasn't verbalized, but he was pretty sure the prayers would work just as well.

"And Bobby, you do everything you can to talk . . . if you can." He sighed. The poor kid had to be tired. "Want to rest a little buddy?"

Bobby listed to the side a little, his exhaustion showing.

"Here, kiddo, just lean your head against my leg. Use it like a pillow. And here. . ." Bobby laid down, settling as close to Sam as he could. Sam took his outer shirt off and laid it over Bobby's upper torso, then helped him tuck his feet under the meager sheets on the bed. He hoped it would be enough to keep him at least a little warmer.

He wasn't really thinking about sleep. He decided it couldn't hurt him to repeat all the verses they had gone over. But first, he had some business with the man upstairs.

He flinched at the thought of praying. He really wasn't the praying type. But desperate times - and all that.

_God, you know we do this a lot. But do think you could help us out this time? With Bobby and Annie¼ I don't want anything to happen to them. Dean, too, God. Could you protect them, please, God? I know I don't pray a lot, and I don't know if this is the right way or anything, but please, just help us get through this. Amen._

He felt a little silly, but also a little more at peace. Having seen Bobby's simple and complete faith he figured there must be something to it. But he wasn't ready to go any further than that.

No, his idea of faith was more than a little shaky still from their run in with the faith healer. He knew that was a jaded view of faith and religion. But still. He looked down at Bobby, who was already breathing steadily. Now there was a study in true, simple faith. Bobby had it in spades. If only everyone could believe that easily.

But right now really wasn't the time for spiritual decisions or confessions. He smiled harshly. No, right now he just wanted to concentrate on getting them out of here.

Alive, preferably.

He started repeating Latin softly, making sure he had all the correct intonations. Sam slowly relaxed into the wall, an arm slung over Bobby's side, and the murmuring continued.

* * *

Reviews are like Chocolate (Hm...think someone else said that first, but ... yummmmm, chocolate) Won't you feed me a little sweetness today? ---Kat 


	9. Chapter 9

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 9 "Being Brave"  
**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Sam and Bobby are used as part of a demon's plans. Will Dean and the others be able to make it in time?

_**Chapter 9 "Being Brave**____** Part 1**_

_****_

Dean glanced in his rearview mirror, then back at the road when he saw Andy's lumbering SUV behind him. Whoever heard of a pastor with a SUV? He checked himself, who ever heard of a pastor that looked like a professional wrestler?

A quick lopsided grin flickered across his face, replaced quickly by a locked jaw and frozen features. He hoped this would be the right place; that they would catch a break. Considering that the demon had struck twice in one day, three times including the kidnapping, it was likely they were on a limited time schedule. It was ten o'clock.

And at this point, Sam and Bobby had been missing for a nerve-wracking three and some odd hours. He was pretty sure the kidnapping, the attacks on Bobby, all of it were designed to get to Annie.

He glanced back at the SUV again. He had to figure a way out of this mess. Finding Sam and Bobby was only part of it. He knew there would be a trap in there somewhere.

He hit the dashboard in frustration, then winced at the thought of hurting his baby.

Sam and Bobby better be okay.

He glanced back again, and then noticed where they were. Time to stop. They had decided to pull off about a quarter mile back from the property and walk in.

He found a spot where he could pull partially behind some trees and shrubbery and waited for Andy to find a similar spot for his vehicle. He moved to get out the car when he heard the faint sounds of doors being shut nearby.

He easily made out the rustling of feet and turned to come face to face with Andy and Annie. They had parked just a little further up behind another section of trees and high-topped shrubbery.

They met over the trunk of the Impala. Dean glanced back towards their destination and then met Andy's gaze before speaking.

"Why don't I go ahead and check it out, make sure they're even there?" He glanced at Annie and then met Andy's eyes again. "If they are, I'll high-tail it back and we can get organized."

"No, I want to go with you. Bobby might need me." Annie's voice was firm but filled with panic.

"Annie, we can't go in without checking things out carefully." Andy took her arm and turned her to face him. "We could make things worse on Bobby and Sam if we go marching in there before knowing for sure what we're dealing with. And even then . . .

"Even then, what?" Her voice was no longer calm. She turned from Andy, placing her hands on the car. She splayed her fingers and took a deep breath.

"Annie, we're obviously dealing with a powerful demon here. And he likely has lots of demon pals helping him out." He stopped, then took her arm again. "If we're not careful, we could get them hurt bad, _we_ could get hurt bad."

"This is serious stuff, and we can't rush in playing hero until we know for sure." Andy sighed and shifted his feet, leaning over to peer into Annie's face.

She nodded, carefully, bit her lip and stepped back from the two men. Her feet echoed softly in the grass as she turned and walked a couple paces toward the front of the car.

Dean met Andy's eyes.

Andy nodded with a jerk of his head.

"You know this is a trap, right?" He whispered to Dean, who was momentarily shocked.

"Yeah, how did you?"

"I have a sense about things like this." The big man crossed his arms and shifted his feet.

"Like this? How many things 'like this' have you been a part of Andy?"

"I've done exorcisms, maybe a dozen . . ." Andy began, but seeing Dean's face he took a deep breath. "And I've gone after a few demons who possessed their hosts like this."

"You've hunted before?" He didn't mean it to sound like an accusation, but really - a literal demon hunter?

"Yes." It was a quiet admission. "Only a few times, and those demons weren't as powerful as this one. But they were still more than capable of creating a trap to draw their prey in. They were strong and smart."

He met Dean's eyes again, acknowledged the quiet respect and the accusation still resting there.

"I should have told you before - but tell me . . ." He grinned suddenly. "Just how easily would you have been able to believe I was a pastor who just happened to be a demon hunter?"

"Maybe . . ." Dean turned his head for a second and then his gaze found Andy's and hardened. "I need to scout things out and get back here."

"You have any ideas on what we do if they are there? Buy us some time to try and exorcise that son of a . . ." he blushed, forgetting for a minute he was talking to a pastor.

"I might. I'll check a few things out while you're gone." Andy shifted his feet again. "Be careful."

"Yeah." And with that, Dean turned and was gone.

Demon hunting pastors - what next? Well, Pastor Jim came to mind. But still.

Dean shook his head again, moving stealthily through the yard. He stayed to the edges and in the shrubbery, keeping his cover whenever possible.

He could make out the house now. He positioned himself behind a rather large evergreen bush and pulled binoculars from the inside pocket of his coat. They were small field binoculars, and easily able to cut the viewing distance.

But not from this angle.

There were no windows – which meant no clear view of the inside of the house. He would have to go in closer, at an angle.

He took the opportunity to examine the roof and yard with the binoculars. He was able to make out at least three additional people, one on the roof, two strolling through the yard.

He made his way toward the opposite side of the house. The side facing the lake was the most open, but the men were all facing the road. He maneuvered towards the lake, and the foliage along the bank.

Several slow minutes later he was crouching along some large plants, along the bank across the property from the house. He saw a man pacing in front of the large set of sliding glass doors, then lifted his binoculars up to get a better look.

He just about dropped them again.

Sam.

But where was Bobby? He whipped the binoculars around, trying to make out as much of the interior as he could.

No Bobby.

There was one door in clear view, slightly ajar. That was the one Sam was just drug from. Bobby was probably in there. He wanted to know for sure.

It took three men to drag Sam out of the room. That gave Dean a small amount of satisfaction. He watched as two of the men grabbed Sam's arms and the third stood in front on him. He wished he could hear what was being said. But he was just thankful they weren't beating his brother. Although by what he could tell, Sam had already gone through the ringer. He tensed, watching.

After several minutes, they moved towards the door again. Throwing it wide open, Sam was unceremoniously pushed into the room. As the door was flung open, Dean made out the small form on a bed there. It was Bobby.

He had his answers. He rubbed his eyes. His temple. They would pay for what they did to his brother. And little Bobby. But first, they had to have a plan. He turned and started the cautious journey back to the vehicles.

Sam had accidentally dozed off when he was rudely awakened and dragged from the room.

He tried to fight. But drowsy from sleepiness and weak from his earlier fighting, it didn't take as much for the men to get him away from Bobby. At least he stayed asleep.

Held between the two men, he had no choice but to listen to the third man in the room. No Larkin this time. He wished he knew what that meant.

"We pulled you out to explain a little something to you. While all your Latin can keep some of us out some of the time, it's not enough." The man glared at Sam for emphasis. And Sam found himself confused. Was this a lecture?

"Just like we got to you just now, we could have gotten to the boy." He stopped and stared at Sam for emphasis. "Do you understand? You aren't safe. No stupid words you guys mumble can make you safe. Nothing you do is enough to make you safe."

Sam just glared at him. He noted that the man's eyes were clear blue. Not possessed. At least currently.

"What do you want out of us? Bobby is just a kid. He can't hurt you. He's innocent!" He tried to speak calmly, but the thought of Bobby's hell had him almost yelling by the last word he spoke.

"That should not be what concerns you!" The man was in his face. "Staying alive and keeping that kid you seem to like alive should be your biggest concern."

Sam's breath hitched. He was sure that he and Bobby were supposed to be bait for a trap of some kind. This guy didn't seem to care about that plan, though.

"What do you want?" He spoke through clenched teeth, not willing to let this man notice his sudden concern.

"Let's just say it would be in your best interest to make sure we are able to do our jobs, or we might have to hurt that little boy." He leaned close to Sam. "'Course I don't mind it. I like hurting kids."

Sam couldn't help a shudder at the malicious look in the man's eyes.

"What do you mean?" He glared at the man.

"The master wants to set up a nice little party, and here in a little bit, you and that little boy get to be the guests of honor." Sam stared at him wishing looks could kill. "He would be disappointed, but the master would hurt the child, if he had to, in order to have his guests there."

He leaned down in his face again. Sam wisely resisted the urge to spit.

"The child is a special boy, but he listens to you. Make sure he understands not to fight as we . . . prepare . . . him for the party." He glared at Sam. "Understand?"

"Sure - make sure the boy lets you tie him up for the festivities or you'll hurt him." Sam was furious.

"You're a smart one, Sammy boy. But you miss the big picture." He smiled a dangerous, dark smile. "There are no assurances you will both be alive at the end of this party, but unless the child cooperates, he won't live to see the beginning. And the master would very much like him to be there."

Sam felt like he was punched in the gut.

"In case you didn't catch it, I'm completely human, Sammy." He leaned closer to Sam's face, whispering in his ear. "Your Latin won't hurt me like the master and some of his . . . closer . . . friends. But me? I can hurt you guys just fine. And I really like hurting kids."

Sam trembled, frustrated, as the man grinned at him, and then nodded to the men holding him.

They unceremoniously pushed him back into the room and fell in a heap on the floor.

What was it that Dean said? Demons he gets, but people are just crazy? Sam decided to revise that to include revolting, disgusting, evil and assholes. If only name-calling would make him feel better.

He looked over at Bobby.

His return to the room had awakened him. He thought about his warning. In a way, he was grateful for it. He hadn't thought about preparing Bobby to be tied up.

How do you prepare a child for that? Especially one that doesn't do well with things around his hands, doesn't do well with change, and was probably terrified at this point. Not to mention couldn't understand it all. Sam sighed. Their only chance was for him to find a way to let Bobby understand.

"Ba' man hur' Sa'?" Bobby looked past him, eyes huge. He made a whisper of eye contact, but it was too much. A tear rolled down his cheek and he started rocking.

"No, Bobby. The bad man didn't hurt me." He gritted his teeth against the agony his body was actually in and pulled himself up to the bed, resting beside Bobby.

"The bad man wanted to tell me something. He wanted to tell me that our special words wouldn't work on him. Do you know what that means, kiddo?" He glanced at Bobby. How to word this? "It means we have to do what he says. Or he might try and hurt us."

He looked at the boy. Did he understand this at all?

"The bad man wants us to be able to stay really still for him, 'cause he wants to tie us up." Something about that sounded so wrong. Bobby's questioning look cut him to the bone.

"Ro' hur'. Ro' tie? (Rope hurt. Rope tie?)" He was trying to understand.

"Yeah, buddy, the rope is what they'll use to tie us." Sam gritted his teeth. He really hated those guys, even if preparing Bobby made it easier on him. He shouldn't have to deal with it at all. He ran his hand through his hair roughly. "I'll ask them not to tie it too tight, and hopefully it won't hurt."

"Mi't hur'?" Bobby was really no dummy.

"Maybe just a little." Sam looked at him. "But we have to be brave, and that will make it easier. Okay?"

"Bra'." Bobby climbed onto Sam's lap and pushed his head into his chest. Sam's shirt moistened where his head rested. His tears broke Sam's heart.

"Hey Bobby, you can do what you need to do to make it easier." He gently held the little guy. He whispered against his hair. "I wish I could make it all go away."

"Bobby pay (pray)." Quiet. He moved his head a little, sniffling. Sam's arms tightened around him.

"God ma' be'r (make better). God hep' Bobby be bra' (God help Bobby be brave)." His whisper was muffled softly against Sam's chest. "Sam hep'."

Sam's breath caught.

"God, hep' Sam. Hep' Bobby be bra'. Bobby sar'd. God peas' hep'. Amen" (God, help Sam. Help Bobby be brave. Bobby scared. God please help. Amen.) Bobby looked up to meet Sam's eyes, unflinchingly.

Brown eyes met green and a world of understanding seemed to pass between them. Bobby smiled a tentative smile and broke off the contact.

"Okay. Be okay." His words were quietly spoken and took Sam by surprise.

"We'll be okay, you got that right, kiddo. I'll be here too, no matter what else happens."

The door opened then, and the two men who had held Sam before walked in, followed by the talkative man. Sam held Bobby tighter for a second. And then he loosened his grasp. He didn't want Bobby hurt before they had a chance of being rescued.

"It's time for the party, guys." The grin on his face was chilling as he walked towards them. "Bobby, did Sam tell you about the party?"

"No. I told him that you guys were going to tie us up, but that you would try not to hurt him. He doesn't understand the games you want to play." Sam glared at him.

"Fine, then into the other room, boys." He backed up and gestured for Sam and Bobby to walk into the other room in front of him. Sam ignored his sore muscles and picked Bobby up as he stood, whispering in his ear.

"Remember I'll be here. No matter how scary it is. It will be okay. Just remember your prayer. Remember to be brave. And I'll try too." He finished his pep talk as they reached the middle of the next room. A chair sat by itself there. Bobby clung to him tightly and he gritted his teeth. "It'll be okay. I have to put you down now. But I'm still right here. It's okay."

It wasn't okay.

The boy was trembling, and Sam was furious at the situation. He was furious at being helpless. He hated that Bobby couldn't be protected from this.

"S' okay." Bobby tightened his arms briefly and then let go, allowing Sam to slide him gently to stand beside him. "Bobby bra'."

"You ba' guys." His last statement, Bobby glared over the heads of the three men and fisted his hands at his sides.

The talker of the bunch snickered. One of the other two leaned down with rope in his hands and pulled Bobby's arms behind his back. Bobby flinched but otherwise showed no reaction aside from a slight trembling.

"Please, he's doing what you want, can you be careful not to make it too tight?" Sam hated begging, but he didn't want Bobby to hurt worse.

"You did good. Bobby is being quite the good little man. George, not too tight, don't hurt the boy."

The man nodded, loosening the ropes already wrapped around Bobby's slight wrists. He tied the ropes off and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He pulled it between his hands tightly in front of Bobby's face and forced it in between his lips.

Bobby whimpered.

"Come on kid, I won't make it too tight." George waited for Bobby to relax slightly before tying the handkerchief behind his head. Then he grabbed his arm and pushed him down until he was sitting at Sam's feet. He closed his eyes, tears rolling silently down his cheeks.

"It's okay Bobby, Sam's still here. It's okay." Sam was trying to comfort Bobby even as the other man's hand clamped down on his shoulder and pushed him into the chair.

Sam didn't say anything else. They had shown a little more compassion towards Bobby than he would have thought possible. But they didn't extend him the same consideration.

George helped pull his arms behind the chair while the other man wrapped rope over and around his wrists. He pulled the rope tight, cutting into the skin slightly and causing Sam to grit his teeth. They lashed his wrists to the back of the chair and pulled, making sure there was no give. His arms already ached as the position of the ropes caused them to flex awkwardly.

A handkerchief was pushed into his mouth, another tied over it and around his head. He glared at the men as they stood admiring their handiwork.

"One more thing." The talker of the group reached into his own pocket and drew out two more cloths. He crossed behind Sam and tied it tightly around his head, covering Sam's eyes. He heard Bobby's whimpers as his eyes were covered as well.

A hard hit on his cheek caused Sam's head to snap hard to the side. He grunted. Another hit against his temple caused spots to dance behind his closed eyes. He fought against unconsciousness.

But his head lagged and in the fuzzy place between unconsciousness and awareness he vaguely registered laughter. He felt Bobby push back against his legs and felt his trembling. It was the impetus he needed to fight for full consciousness. But he kept his head relaxed fully to the side and tried not to give away his slight advantage.

Bobby started rocking, the slight repetitive jarring of his leg passing the time for both of them.

The men retreated. One remained by the door, the other two leaving the house to prepare for the master's arrival.

He would be here soon.

And then the party would start.

He did not like this place.

He did not like the bad guys.

He did not want to be brave.

He wanted to cry.

It was dark behind the thing on his eyes, so he closed them. His cheeks were wet. He couldn't wipe them off. It felt bad. Everything felt bad. Sam's legs were there, he could feel them. Sam was there. He couldn't look back. Too much. His eyes hurt, he clenched them shut so tight.

He was trying to be brave. It was hard. He was scared. The rope hurt on his wrists. The cloth felt bad in his mouth. The floor was cold. In his head, he started talking. The bad guys couldn't hear that. Sam told him before that if he couldn't talk, he could say the special words in his head. So he did_Oratio__Psalmus__ et __exorcismus_He made a small sound when they covered his eyes. That scared him.

_Oremus__. Deus, et Pater __Fomini__nostri__jesu__Chrisi_, he heard it when they hit Sam. _Invoco__nomen__ sanctum __tuum__, et __clementiam__tuam__supplex_ he heard it when they hit Sam again.

He started rocking, just a little. Rocking helped him be brave. It made him feel better. He was scared. He remembered his prayer.

He would be brave, like Sam. God would help.

The special words were moving through his mind. He could see them in the darkness in his head, make out the words as he worked through the prayer, the Psalm and the Exorcism.

He didn't hear the bad guys move away from them. He was gone. In his mind, it was all about the special words. He repeated them over and over. The rocking kept pace with the words in his head.

He didn't care about the pain up his arms, in his wrists. He swallowed against the cloth in his mouth. He ignored it. Ignored the nasty taste. He liked the darkness. It made the words easier to say.

The words were all he cared about now.

The special words were in his head.

They were a part of him.

* * *

I'd love to know what you think! Gimme some love! ---Kat 


	10. Chapter 10

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes - Ch. 10 "Crazy and Spirited"

**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Dean, Annie and Andy ready themselves for a rescue attempt.

_**Chapter 10 "Crazy and Spirited"**_

When Dean left, Andy went back to his SUV and opened the back. He pulled out a compact duffel bag and a small velvet bag and then closed the back door. He moved to sit the duffle on the ground beside the Impala and then sat down beside it.

From the velvet bag, he drew out a gold cross. He prayed silently and then crossed the chain over his head, the cross resting against his chest.

"Annie ..." He waited for her to sit in front of him. "I know you have your own cross, but these are blessed. I want you to wear one. We'll pray over it and then you put it over your head."

She slipped it over her head as they finished the simple prayer.

"What about Dean?" She asked quietly. "He doesn't believe."

"Yes, but we do, we'll pray over his as well." He pulled a third cross from the bag and they both held it, murmuring the simple prayer.

"Annie." He met her eyes. "I know you don't have the exorcism ritual memorized. But remember that your prayers are powerful. And God listens. Don't forget to pray during what's to come. Let God strengthen you."

She nodded.

"I'm scared, Andy." He smiled at her gently, almost sadly.

"I know. It's normal to be scared." He rested a hand on hers. "But Annie, this is a big moment. It's about a lot more than Bobby and Sam. This is between Heaven and Hell. And we know who will win in the end, right?"

She nodded, hesitantly. Suddenly, Andy's breath hitched. His hand clenched hers.

"Annie!" His breath was coming in gulps. Annie's eyes widened.

"Andy, are you okay?" She put her other hand on his shoulder.

"We have to pray. The Lord is trying to ..." He looked at her almost desperately. "Annie, pray with me now, something is wrong."

Her heart stopped for a second at the agony in his eyes. Nodding, she held both his hands in hers and started praying quietly. _God, help him to know what you need him to know. Protect him Lord, and reveal yourself to him_

Her prayers murmured quietly and echoed in Andy's ears, but he didn't hear them. He was watching a picture unfold in his head.

He saw a man with black eyes in mid-turn. He knew without question that this was no longer a man, but a demon, and he shuddered at the evil that radiated from the abomination.

The picture panned out to include Sam and Bobby: both in the center of a room. The demon was talking, but this was just a picture, a moment in time - he couldn't hear what was said.

Suddenly, he made out a separate entity within the room: Another demonic presence.

Evil, escaping. And a new evil revealed. He saw the picture fade and then sharpen. The man no longer had black eyes, but yellow. Evil was no longer enough of a word to describe the wickedness radiating from the man.

He knew two truths: The yellow-eyed demon had possessed the same body as the black-eyed one. And the yellow-eyed demon was too powerful for a simple exorcism to work. The regular implements of faith would not be enough. He was too evil, too close to Satan.

Andy shuddered, and the picture faded from his mind's eye. _Lord, please help me know this was of you._

He saw two passages in his mind's eye. Mark 5:8-9 and 9:29. He knew without looking they were the confirmation he was seeking. He had them memorized.

"_For he said unto him, Come out of the man[thou unclean spirit. And he asked him, What [is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name [is Legion: for we are many." Mark 5:8-9_

"_And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting." Mark 9:29_

He had studied both passages before. The first was easily applied – it confirmed that more than one demon shared that poor man's body. The second: was proof that "this" demon was a different kind of demon. And he felt that the prayer and fasting, while important, wasn't quite the point. There was something more. And on this point, the man upstairs was silent.

_Thank you, Lord, for the insight. I pray that you would make clear our role in this plan as it unfolds and help us to keep focused on You. In Jesus' name I pray, amen._

He opened his eyes to find Annie staring at him.

She had repeated her prayers over and over and finally, feeling peace, had stopped and waited for him to finish. As his eyes opened, she saw resolution and conflict there.

"The Lord's given me insight, Annie. But there is still a missing piece." He sighed, running shaking hands through his hair. "The demon we're after is involved, but at least another is with him in that body. And getting to the yellow-eyed demon will be very difficult. Sending him back to hell ..."

"What about a yellow-eyed demon?" Dean had just stepped from the shield of shrubbery, hearing the end of Andy's shaken statement. His eyes met the pastor's and both realized at the same time the other had news. Dean gave the pastor a sharp look and shared his news first, quickly.

"They're there. I saw them both." Annie looked relieved, he was thankful that she didn't ask for more details. "Now what's this about a yellow-eyed demon?"

"I felt like I had to pray. I felt the need so badly it hurt." He glanced at Annie for a moment. "And when I prayed, God showed me something."

He paused, gathering his thoughts.

"I saw a picture, like a moment in time, of Sam and Bobby. I saw a man and at first when he turned, his eyes were black. I could feel the evil coming from him. I knew he was possessed." He swallowed. "Then, everything faded. When it came back into focus, the same man was standing there, but the original demon was gone. Instead I saw the yellow-eyed demon."

Dean's look cemented his unease.

"So you have visions too? Am I the only one around who doesn't have some kind of spidey-sense thing going?" Dean joked, but his eyes flickered something before it was gone again. If Andy didn't know better, he would think the man was scared, frustrated and maybe a little freaked out.

Well, he wasn't alone.

"I prayed more and the Lord led me to scripture. If what I read and understand from the scripture is true, we have problems. First thing - that man is possessed by more than one demon." He met Dean's eyes, registered his surprise. "It's possible, even referred to in scripture. But that isn't the biggest problem."

"I think the Lord was warning me that an exorcism alone wasn't enough to send this thing back to hell. There was something more, out of my reach." The pastor was shaken. "I _did_ feel like there was a way to drive it away."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. He had never felt this close to evil.

"But it is too evil, too close to Satan, to be dealt with as casually as other demons." He had felt this warning clear after reading and understanding the second verse the Lord revealed to him.

"Even if we are able to exorcise it, this is one demon that would come back with revenge in mind, stronger than ever." He actually shuddered at the thought. "I don't know, it could be that Satan would even send it back. This thing is so evil; it is close to the underlying fight between Heaven and Hell. I felt it."

There it was. Even getting rid of that abomination wouldn't keep it from coming back and wreaking more havoc.

The three stared at the ground, each drawn into their own thoughts.

"Okay, so one step at a time. First we get to Sam and Bobby." Dean was thinking furiously. "This other demon, can you exorcise it quickly do you think? Open us up to deal with the yellow-eyed demon quickly? If we do it on our schedule maybe we could throw it off?"

"I believe so, the other demon I sensed is not strong, it's more like a guard, a line of defense for the more powerful demon." Andy nodded his head. He was pretty sure of that. "I believe I could weaken the other, the yellow-eyed one. Not horribly, but some at least."

"Good. Because he won't be our only problem." Dean squared his shoulders. "I saw at least six other men there. I got a good look at a couple of them through the binoculars."

He remembered seeing his brother and shook the thought from his mind. Focus.

"I think they might just be regular baddies. They didn't have black eyes and didn't act like they were possessed. They just acted like the human kind of evil."

"I think if we can take them out of the picture, that will help us the most. Then we can focus all our attention on the main attraction."

"Do you have a plan?" Andy asked pointedly.

"Yeah, but I'll need help." He looked back evenly at the pastor. "You up for it?"

"As long as help doesn't mean killing, I can help." He grinned. "I teach karate at the church. I can defend myself okay."

Dean nodded appraisingly, grinning inwardly. Of course he knew karate ... that was just such a pastoral thing to know and all. He turned toward Annie.

She met his gaze steadily.

"I'm no black belt, can't handle a gun worth anything, and I couldn't scare a flea." She grinned thinly, then smiled. "How about I become the distraction? I've heard a woman with a gun is a little dangerous."

At first Dean didn't react. He didn't really like the idea. But, it would buy them extra time and give them the element of surprise. He nodded slowly.

"I think we could make this work." He glanced at Annie. "But first I have to actually teach you how to shoot a gun."

Andy grunted disapprovingly.

"She needs to be able to defend herself, and that's all I'm teaching her. She doesn't have to shoot to kill to be a scary female with a gun." He paused for a moment, grinning at Annie slightly. "But you do have to know how to actually shoot. Aiming would be great, too. I think you might need a little something more, too."

"I'll do whatever I can to help." Her steady words drove their grins away.

"We'll just take a few minutes and you'll know enough to scare anyone." Dean thought for a moment. "We might need to give you a little more of an advantage. I've got an idea."

He analyzed the plan taking shape within his mind. It could work.

"Oh, I wanted to give this to you before we head out." Andy opened the velvet bag and drew out the cross he and Annie had prayed over. "This is blessed and we prayed over it as well. It will offer some slight protection."

He passed the chain over Dean's neck, a little surprised when the man didn't object.

"I have one for Bobby and Sam when we are able to get to them." He cleared his throat. "I'd like to pray before we leave."

Dean offered no objections. At this point, he'd do anything if it meant getting Sam back safely, even pray. The pastor's quiet prayer didn't take long, and before long they were going over the plan Dean had come up with.

He looked at Andy, then met Annie's eyes.

"You guys ready?"

They both nodded. Annie looked apprehensive. And Dean gave her one more chance to back out.

"You don't have to do this Annie. We can do it another way." The look on her face spoke volumes, though.

"No way. I can do this. You better figure out what gun I'm using." She grinned. "You sure you want to let me loose with one your guns?"

He motioned her towards the trunk of his car and opened it. Her expression as she took in all the weaponry was priceless. Her eyes were still wide when she looked back at him.

"You guys use all this?" She laughed nervously. "Of course you do."

He chose a weapon and then moved her behind the cover of the trees. And with the moonlight behind them, the lessons began.

Why was she doing this again?

Bobby.

Yeah, that's right. She was being a crazy, stupid, horribly inept distraction all for her brother. It was worth it. It was worth it. It really was worth it.

Oh, enough. She was just plain crazy.

A five minute lesson on the finer points of handling a gun did not make her more comfortable handling it. She thought fleetingly she should at least remember the name of the thing. Oh well. She'd ask again later, maybe.

Time for this party to start. She drove Andy's SUV down the road to the driveway of the house they wanted to get to. She gunned it, drawing attention to the SUV driving cautiously down the driveway.

This plan better work. If it didn't, she and Dean were discussing the finer points of using idiotic sisters as bait. Er, distractions. Bait just sounded wrong.

She flashed her biggest damsel in distress smile as a man came out of the darkness to look into her window. She conjured up some tears and even managed to make her voice crack as she started the nonsense about being lost and alone and "So, so scared."

The man nodded nicely at her and had a concerned "I want to be the hero" expression on his face.

"Can you help me? My friend lives out here, but I didn't realize it would be so dark and I think I got turned around." She wiped at her eyes, glancing under her lashes at him. She went to open the door. "I think I have a map in my bag back here. if I got it out, do you think you could show me how to get to his house?"

Innocence. She was selling innocence here. So she wasn't going to notice the really frightening look that went into his eyes as they roamed over her body. It felt dirty and she almost wished she could take a shower. Damsels in distress weren't supposed to notice if the hero looked like he wanted to jump her instead of helping, right?

Fully out of the vehicle now, she opened the back door and slowly braced herself. She took two things out of the duffel bag on the seat, and the map they had studied so carefully hours before.

She crinkled the map like she was unfolding it and then turned to give it to him. As he opened it up the rest of the way, she launched. She grabbed both items from the seat and whirled, shutting the door quickly and in one fluid motion and shoving a very scary looking gray gun in the man's face.

Huh. Dean was right. The guy did look scared to death. And then the man grinned. Dean was almost right about that.

She did the other move Dean had taught her and quickly stood behind the man, moving the gun to angle upwards into his neck. She pushed hard, just like Dean had told her to. She backed into the SUV, pulled him back almost into her, and then pulled the other item fully out. She snapped the cuff on one wrist before the guy knew what she intended.

"Bring your hands behind you, slow." He didn't. She pushed against the gun harder, and he nicely obliged. She snapped the other cuff on and felt a small sigh of relief.

"I came for my brother. Where is he?" She tried to sound dangerous, but instead her voice sounded almost squeaky.

"Lady, I don't know what you're talking about. If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here fast before my friends show up." His voice had turned mean as he spoke. Annie flinched.

"Actually, I was hoping they might show up." And she wasn't disappointed. "Quiet."

She pushed the gun harder still as she saw the man coming into view. He didn't realize what was happening, and was strolling like he didn't have a care in the world. Well, he was until he saw Annie, and his friend. His eyes widened.

She knew it was time now. She pushed the man in front of her so he lay sprawled on the ground and opened the back door of the SUV again. She quickly drew out several small items.

She grinned at the guy moving quickly towards her.

"You know, they say a woman with a gun is dangerous." The guy slowed, and another was coming into the clearing. She stayed partially behind the SUV door, letting it protect her. "I just wonder if a woman with grenades might not be even more scary."

His eyes widened as she took the pin from one grenade and threw it as hard as she could towards the side of the driveway on the other side of the men.

"Don't move!" She cried out. "I have lots more of those."

Oh, she was _so_ going to win an Oscar for this.

"I want my brother back. And my friend. You go in there and tell your buddies to let them go." The man didn't respond. Dean had told her he probably wouldn't. Another man came onto the scene. There were four here now. That was the magic number.

"I'll start tossing more of these. I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want my brother and my friend. You tell your friends to let them go." She was rambling a little.

For effect, she took the pin from another grenade and threw it into the open yard to the other side. While the yard was bare, the effect was nice. The men all flinched.

Crazy woman.

That Oscar was hers.

She grinned, very relieved. The second grenade was her signal for backup.

Andy opened the back of the SUV and jumped out quickly, rushing to stand beside Annie. He pretended not to notice how hard she was shaking.

"You did great." He scanned the roof of the house, noting the sniper there was gone. He pulled the gun away from Annie's shaking fingers and walked up to the cuffed man still on the ground. With one chop of his wrist, the man lay limp. He checked the pulse: strong and steady.

Annie pulled another gun from the duffel bag. It was a long one. And while Dean had shown her how to shoot it, in the scariness of the here and now she couldn't remember. She gulped. Maybe she'd look scary enough just holding it.

Just as the men who stood watching were starting to come out of their stupor, reaching for weapons of their own, Dean came into view. He stepped quietly behind them.

"Just drop them. Now." He cocked his gun to convince them, and weapons started dropping.

Andy started that way, with Annie tucked firmly behind him. Dean waited for Andy's help, and between the two of them, they finished stripping the men of their weapons. Annie took the duct tape Dean offered her and started taping their hands together behind their backs.

The hands looked mummified by the time she was done, but that meant they had less chance of getting loose, right? She ripped off a piece of tape to put over each of their mouths as well, and then they were finished. Almost.

"Okay, guys, you're going on a little walk. Over to the shed on the far side of the property." He grimly watched them walk slowly across the property. He motioned to Annie and Andy as they followed the men. "The other two are taken care of already."

"You did a good job with the crazy there, Annie." He grinned at her before turning his attention to the men in front of him. It took them close to five minutes to navigate the property. Once at the shed, the men were shoved inside. Dean pulled a lock from his pocket. "I saw this when I scouted before, had this old lock back in the car and thought we could use it."

"I don't have the keys, though." He grinned. "Too bad."

He tightened the lock into place and stepped back. He glanced around, and then his eyes deadened, and face tightened.

"Now let's get to it."

Annie shivered. The change in his demeanor was almost scary, and she couldn't help but appreciate him being on her side.

They crept silently along the shadows, sticking to trees and shrubbery as much as possible. And once they were finally to the side of the house, they moved wordlessly single file, pressed against the house.

_Oh God help us._ Annie and the pastor's silent prayer echoed in their minds.

They rounded the corner along the backside of the house, facing the lake. Dean motioned the other two to stay put and crept closer, peering over the bottom edge of the picture window.

From this angle he could only make out someone, his brother, tied to a chair in the center of the room. He glanced around the interior to see that it was clear. Larkin and the demon inside him were around here somewhere. But where?

A movement in front of Sam drew his attention. He could barely make out a small figure sitting in front of the chair, rocking. He knew it was Bobby, although he couldn't clearly make him out.

He knew it would be a trap. But they could stack the odds in their favor.

He crept backwards.

"Okay. Be careful. I mean, we know it's a trap, but still ..." Dean met Annie's eyes. "You need to stay calm. Do whatever you have to, repeat stuff in your head. It doesn't matter what you do, but try really hard to stay calm. No matter what you see."

"On three ..." _One, two ..._


	11. Chapter 11

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes – Ch. 11 "Rise and Fall"

**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** A battle rages against evil, and new gifts are revealed.

**_Chapter 11 "Rise and Fall" Part 1_ **

Sam could hear the door opening. He sensed it was Dean, and almost sighed in relief. But the fact that this was all a trap negated the relief of having his brother there. He knew that the demon was still here, somewhere.

He heard footsteps and realized quickly that Dean had someone else with him.

"Sam!" Dean's whisper carried softly across the room, and he quickly turned his head toward the sound. Footsteps echoed softly against the floor and soon he felt Dean was beside him. "You okay?"

Dean pulled the blindfold off his face and winced at the bruises that hid there. Sam nodded, unable to speak. His mouth was too dry to even try and talk around the thick gag. He remembered his vision though, and made an effort to get Dean to understand. He needed to be able to speak.

He jerked his head and wiped the side of his face against his shoulder. He knew from experience it wouldn't loosen the gag, but he counted on his brother to comprehend.

"Need that thing off?" Dean used his knife to cut through the handkerchief covering Sam's mouth.

"Thanks." Sam's raspy voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. His throat was dry, and the effort to talk caused a coughing fit.

"Bobby" His eyes met Dean's and then he turned his head to look at Bobby. He was relieved to see Annie already had his blindfold and gag off, but he was still rocking and trembling violently. His eyes were wide open and vacant.

The pastor kneeled beside the Carvers, and draped a chain with a cross on it around the boy's neck, murmuring softly. Then he turned to Sam and repeated the procedure. At Sam's questioning look, the pastor nodded towards Dean and continued murmuring in Latin.

"It's a blessed cross, for protection. I've got a matching one." He leaned forward and dangled his cross where Sam could see.

Sam realized just seconds before it happened: The demon was coming back. Sam felt the difference before he could see anything. He shivered. It was a feeling more than a drop in air temperature though.

"Dean!" His warning came just as Larkin's demon-filled body came into the room, entering from a small doorway off to the side. He felt Dean reach around to press something into his bound hands.

A knife.

He smiled grimly and set to work trying to saw through one of the ropes. The position his arms were in made it hard for him angle the knife purposefully. He kept working at it as Larkin moved towards the center of the room.

Dean moved around the chair to stand in front of his brother, Annie and Bobby. He tensed, waiting.

Annie was frantically trying to connect with Bobby. She didn't see the demon's entrance. Sam looked around, spying Andy to the side, almost behind him. He was a study in concentration, murmuring quietly to himself.

Something else was different from his vision. He tried to remember it - bad guys. There were no other bad guys around. He wondered what happened to them, still trying diligently to saw through the ropes that bound him.

His thoughts scattered as the room moved in fast forward.

He blinked.

Annie and Dean were no longer in front of him. Instead, they were pinned to the wall: Dean in front of him, Annie on the same wall but several feet away.

He worked frantically at his ropes, but he couldn't get the knife at the right angle, and it kept sliding away from him. Frustrated, he watched the scene in front of him unfold while still working desperately to free himself.

Something happened. Something intangible shifted within the room. Larkin turned toward the opposite wall, where Andy was pinned. But while everyone else was watching the demon within Larkin, Andy's eyes were closed and he was still whispering quietly to himself.

Larkin closed his eyes, hiding the black depths. The dark mist flowed out of him in a loud exclamation of anger and despair, slipping into the air and down, then through the floorboards.

For a moment, all was silent.

Dean and Annie looked at each other, both still pinned precariously to the wall. Sam watched Larkin intently, knowing something else was happening. He remembered his vision.

Knowing didn't make reality any easier, though. As Larkin opened his eyes, the yellow brightness there was intense. Maybe it was the smile; Or maybe it was the light: For whatever reason, suddenly he looked more menacing than before.

He locked eyes with Andy, who stared in horror at the demon as it inched closer.

Andy's words echoed slightly louder now, and in sudden understanding, Sam realized the pastor was reciting the exorcism ritual. Reminded of his and Bobby's goal, he glanced at the boy. What he saw shocked him.

The little guy was curled into himself, still rocking. Trembling. His eyes were wide and fixed, unseeing. Face white.

He threw himself into working the knife in his hands, and finally found purchase on the ropes. By this time, his frantic maneuverings had caused the rope to cut into his skin. Every movement of his arms caused pain to dart through them and up to his shoulders. He didn't care about the pain. He needed to get free, do something.

He looked back over at the pastor and the demon. They seemed to square off, Andy still speaking the words of the exorcism, his voice growing stronger by the word. Larkin's body sidled up closer to the pastor intimately, his face mere inches from Andy's.

"And what do you think you're doing, pastor?" The words had an edge to them. "Don't you know that doesn't work on me?"

The pastor smiled as he kept talking.

"Didn't you hear me? Pathetic man." He leaned just an inch or so closer. "Didn't you hear me? It's useless, pointless."

The thing laughed: A deep, throaty laugh. Then it grinned, turning around to face Annie and Dean. Its golden eyes gleamed as they roamed the captives pinned to the wall.

Sam felt the rope giving way too slowly. His hands were trembling. He had to steady them to try to cut the rope. It was taking too long.

Larkin moved with inhuman grace, pausing in his walk across the room to study Annie.

"You know, you've worked so hard to keep you and your brother together" He leaned close to her, whispering harshly. "But it doesn't matter anymore. You can't protect him from what's to come."

He sidled closer, pressing himself almost against the woman on the wall. She shuddered and recoiled mentally, head pulling back.

"Leave him alone. You don't need to hurt him. He's innocent!" She hissed through her teeth, furious.

"Oh, I don't know that I need to kill him anymore. I kind of like the little guy. Don't you think he'd make a great little helper?" He leered at her. "I could find all kinds of great uses for that memory of his. He's a special boy alright."

He tugged a piece of her hair, playfully trapping it between his fingers. When he looked into her eyes, she didn't see anything playful. A tear freed itself and ran unchecked down her cheek. His breath was hot against her face as he continued.

"I'm sure I could find all kinds of special uses for such a special boy. He would serve me well." He leaned in, breath hot against her ear, whispering for only her to hear. "Forever."

"Never!" Annie shook her head vehemently. "He could never serve you. He already belongs to God. And we know God's will is greater than yours."

She met his eyes unflinchingly.

"Well, he's only what? Seven, eight?" He chuckled. "I'm sure I could get enough service out of him on this earth. By the time he dies, perhaps I could sway him. No matter. He'd meet your God as a broken creature."

Her eyes widened. Another tear ran, unchecked, down her other cheek.

"Why would you hurt him?" She spoke brokenly.

"Because I can." He jerked her head back with a fistful of hair. "Because that's what I do."

She couldn't muffle a broken sob as he forced her head back even further, opening up the column of her neck. His breath trailed the length of her neck before he spoke again.

"I might consider a trade, of sorts." His voice was soft, almost like a caress. Annie could not help the shudder that coursed through her body. "You come to serve me, willingly, and I will leave your brother to lead his simple, innocent existence."

He stepped back abruptly, letting go of Annie's hair and gazing at her in a steady, thoughtful way.

"I can't do that." She almost sobbed with the words. And then, as some unseen strength steadied her, she rallied and glared at the demon. "I serve God, same as Bobby. You can do what you want to us here, but eventually we'll be in heaven. In the end you'll lose anyway."

"Oh, I don't know about that." He stepped back again, settling his feet and squaring his shoulders. An unseen force whipped Annie's face to the side, bloodying her lip. Repeatedly her head flew from one side to the other.

"Is that the best you've got?" Dean's voice broke into the exchange. "You're a big bad demon, beating up a woman, aren't you?"

Annie's head abruptly dropped forward, blood dripping in a stringy line from her cut lip. The demon turned and walked the few feet to settle in front of Dean.

"How's it feel to be completely, pathetically useless?" The demon leaned closer to Dean, inching Larkin's body closer still to the pinned man. "You know, you get off on helping people, saving lives. But when it really counts you're just too little too late."

Dean stared at the demon within Larkin, a carefully balanced sneer hanging on his face.

"I might be useless, but it looks like I can still make you sweat." He looked pointedly at the sweat springing up on Larkin's brow. The demon paused for a moment, but just a moment, before stepping back, an almost excited expression on his face. As it focused it's attention on Dean, he pressed back into the wall, his chest and ribs painfully squashed beneath an invisible force.

Sam stared in horror at the sight. His brother was compressed against the wall. Dean kept his sneer protectively in place for a moment, but then it crumbled and his head fell to the side, face drawn in a silent scream of agony.

Sam was painfully quiet throughout the demon's torture of Annie and Dean, wanting to have a chance at doing something, anything. He continued working at the ropes, even while watching the exchanges with revulsion and growing anger.

Suddenly, finally, his hands were free. He ignored the stabbing pain as he brought them around the edges of the chair, still clutching the knife. Then he reached down quietly and picked up Bobby, forcing the action even when his muscles fought against it.

He pulled Bobby against him and leaned his head against his right shoulder, using the knife to reach behind the boy's back to cut swiftly through the ropes there. He gathered the trembling child close, and whispered in his ear.

"Bobby? I know you're still in there buddy. You've got to listen to Sam. It's time for those special words, kiddo. We need you." He looked desperately at his brother, relieved to see nothing further happening to him. He knew they needed to join the reciting. It was their best chance.

"Look, Andy's saying the special words, and we need to help him. Bobby?" He was frustrated when Bobby remained quiet, but the poor little guy had just been through too much. Sam's arms tightened around him.

He listened intently, discovering where within the ritual the pastor was and he joined in, his words echoing in the small room. Unfortunately, the demon heard the additional voice and turned, remembering his other prisoners. He sneered at Sam and laughed.

"You think you can do anything with those words, Sammy boy?" He leered at Sam. "Why do you call on God? He's nothing to you."

He moved closer to the boys in the chair. Sam recited the ritual from memory. He was surprised suddenly to feel an abrupt change in Bobby. The boy stiffened, and then pulled away from Sam and sat forward. He glared at the demon.

"You ba' ting'." He flung the words at the demon, who looked surprised, then flung his head back and laughed with relish. The deep sounds echoed off the walls.

Sam saw Dean lift his head up, more alert. He couldn't see Annie, but knew she was watching. He could still hear Andy's firm words. He was still delivering the words of the ritual, and trying to hold Bobby, who was straining against his arms.

The demon advanced threateningly and Sam tried to curtail his panic. Suddenly Bobby broke loose. He ran into the demon, shocking Sam. He started pummeling the evil being with his small fists. A gasp heard from behind Larkin signaled that Annie saw what was happening.

"Well, look what we have here." Larkin picked up the small child by the collar of his shirt, shoving him to perch against his side. His arm in an iron grip around the boy's hips, he grinned savagely in the boy's face. "What are you going to do, little Bobby, fight the big bad meanie?"

He chuckled, thoroughly amused by the child.

"Stay put, Sammy." He jerked his head in Sam's direction, stopping his attempt to move towards Bobby. "You don't need to be getting any ideas about coming to anyone's rescue."

He laughed deeply again.

"That turned out real well for Bobby here, didn't it." He grinned maliciously at Sam, who flinched away from the truth of the words. The demon had pinned him effectively.

But not his voice.

"Special words Bobby. Rememberspecial words." The little guy's eyes met his for a brief second and secret understanding passed between them.

Sam started reciting the ritual from the beginning. Bobby's clear, sweet voice chimed right in, echoing the words with perfect intonation.

"Oremus. Deus, et Pater Fomini nostri jesu Chrisi, invoco nomen sanctum tuum, et clementiam tuam supplex" In unison their voices combined, strengthened. The words marched on. Like poetry, they created an even cadence and stilled the atmosphere of the entire room.

The demon pushed Bobby down to stand in front of him, jerking him by his arm to stand when he almost fell. With his other hand, he clutched the boy's neck and lifted him off the ground, choking him.

Bobby kicked wildly and clawed at his neck. He still recited the words he knew would help. Within seconds they were falling silently from his lips, as his air was cut off.

"Stop it!" Annie's voice cut through the thickness in the room. All eyes turned to take her in. Her face was red with the hint of bruising to come, blood dripping from both sides of her lips and her nose. She glared at the demon and then gasped as she took in her brother's appearance. By now he was barely conscious.

"You. Need. To. Stop. It. Now!" She fell from the wall and landed on her hands and knees. She seemed surprised as she looked down at the floor and then glanced behind her at the wall. She glared at the demon, speaking in her low, growling voice again. "Leave. Him. Alone."

Larkin's hand was still tightened around Bobby's neck. She closed her eyes as if in agony and stumbled to her feet.

Larkin stumbled backwards. Annie took a shaky step forward. Larkin stepped back again. Yellow eyes narrowed in anger at the small woman who dared defy him.

Bobby dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. He looked at his sister, met her eyes.

She blinked. With sudden purpose, her shoulders squared and body tensed.

"Go to Sam, Bobby. Stay with him." She grinned at her brother. "Bobbyuse those special words, sweetie."

She glared again at Larkin as Bobby scrambled to climb into Sam's lap.

"You need to leave me and my brother alone." She all but screamed the words at the demon. "You need to leave Dean and Sam alone. Go back to hell."

Larkin laughed, simply, dangerously.

"Annabelle. Some things are not meant to stay in Hell." He gazed at her with a sneer. "I'd be back before you could blink."

"You can call me Annie. My mother was the only one who ever called me Annabelle." She paused, grimaced, then spoke firmly. "Hell might be too good for you. But you're still going."

She concentrated and closed her eyes. Blood started running from her nose and she wavered.

"God help me. I might not know all those fancy words, but I can still pray." Her voice broke, and still concentrating, she continued. "Please, Lord, send this demon back to hell and keep him from harming us again. I pray in Jesus' name, amen"

She opened her eyes and gazed in pity at the monster in front of her.

"You might come back, but you won't come near me or Bobby again." She shrugged tense muscles and tried to relax, still concentrating.

"You think your puny power can hold me, girl?" He sneered at her, in contrast to the sheen of sweat dotting his brow.

"Long enough . . . for their words to work . . . on you." She spoke painfully, haltingly. Suddenly, the background noise hummed to the foreground. In unison, three voices were carrying the words of the ritual across the room.

They became as one, and their words moved through the air, snaking over and around and causing an almost visible rift in the atmosphere. Dean fell to the ground in a heap. His shocked eyes found his brother's. Sam met his gaze steadily, even while speaking softly in Latin.

Annie stood in front of the demon, blood dripping more heavily from her nose as a look of pained concentration graced her features.

The pastor rose behind Larkin, still speaking steadily. He watched in fascination as Annie's powers held the demon in place and moved to stand closer. His words mixed more completely with Sam and Bobby's and a shift was felt, slight and electrifying, in the room.

The words had a life of their own.

Three voices.

Two with faith, one with innocence, and all with determination.

One believed in the power of the words as never before.

All felt the pull of the words as they neared the end of the ritual.

Sam held Bobby, speaking as one. Their eyes locked. And held.

The power of the words joined them together.

"Amen."

The end of the ritual.

All watched expectantly.

Andy moved closer to where Larkin's body stood heavily. The creature was hanging on to the earthly realm as only a powerful demon can.

"This is the end for you. Here. Now." He gazed with pity at the creature within Larkin. "The Word of God says that wherever two or more gather in his name in prayer, that prayer will be answered. We must pray . . ."

Bowing his head, he took a breath and opened his mouth to begin the simple, fervent prayer. In a flash of black mixed with golden energy, the demon escaped his human shell and interrupted the pastor before his prayer even began. The loud screaming radiated, throbbed within the black mist that rolled restlessly around the room. As the pastor picked up his prayer again, quiet words barely registered but whipped the lifelike mist into a frenzy, sending murky tentacles in every direction throughout the room.

Bobby and Sam flew through the air as their chair exploded against the arm of a whispy limb. Dean was thrown into the wall. Andy was tossed in the air and fell heavily to the floor. Annie stood her ground, blood streaking from her nose. Then she, too, fell in a heap on the floor.

As quickly as it attacked, the demon was gone, in a flash of blinding yellow light. His human host fell in a heap to the ground.

Bodies littered the floor, and they didn't move at all for a moment. Then . . .

One lone form rose. Small and silently, the child stood and walked slowly, carefully to the center of the room, his arm clutched tightly against his chest. His face bruised and mouth bloodied, the little one knew he still had work to do.

One lone voice rose, and the special words came forth. Blanketing the room in a soothing, invisible presence of pure goodness.

The ancient words were all there were.

A cleansing calm descended on the room. And the words moved gently along. Quiet became almost deafening, as in the foreground the special words lived.

The words breathed.

The words lived.

Were anyone to look, the child would have appeared above it all. He stood on the ground, but something about him seemed otherworldly.

Innocence.

Pure innocence.

Very rare.

Combined with an equally rare gift in a unique mind.

The special words poured forth.

And finally, much later, the words ceased and the lone figure floated to the floor.

He rested.

And in his mind, God held him and pulled him close as he dreamed the dreams of angels

* * *

I know there was a bunch of stuff happening...but go ahead and tell me - did you like it okay? Hope so

I'm rushing to post the re-edited bits of this so I can go ahead and start posting the edited bits of the sequel. Hoping to get all the way caught up to where I am writing...but we'll see. There is a benefit to being a bit ahead...SMILES

---Remember, reviews are like chocolate (who said that?????)

----Kat


	12. Chapter 12

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes – Ch. 12

**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Is there really a calm after the storm?

_**Chapter 12 - Calm comfort**_

Before he opened his eyes, he felt surprisingly calm. In fact, the calm was the first thing he noticed. Weird.

Blinking his eyes, he struggled to sit up. From his position against the wall, he took in the chaos under the quiet. Bodies and pieces of a chair were strewn all over. _Sam._ Dean saw his brother collapsed on the floor several feet away from him.

He saw Bobby in a heap in the middle of the room. The pastor and Annie were close to one another on the floor, both buckled against themselves and curled, unmoving. Between them, Larkin's body had fallen in a mass of arms and legs.

The last thing he remembered was the demonic mist attacking them before its escape. He frowned. How long ago was that? Across the room, Sam started coughing.

"Hey, you okay?" When Sam didn't immediately respond he worried. "Sam!"

Still no answer. He mumbled obscenities under his breath. Pushing up painfully he fell forward as pain blurred the edges of his vision momentarily. It hurt to breathe. He at best had some bruised ribs; any motion caused the pain to worsen.

But, _Sam_ ...

He forced his wounded limbs to move, calling himself a wus and a baby when his body failed him. Eventually, he managed to crawl the distance to his brother. He pulled at Sam's shoulder, wincing at the pain the movement elicited.

The pull on his shoulder caused Sam to flop over onto his back, limp. Dean studied his brother, examining him for injuries. He glanced over to the side and realized that the coughing he had heard earlier was actually retching. A pool of blood-tinged vomit lay to the side of where his brother's body had lain. He looked worriedly back at his brother.

A trail of blood ran along the side of Sam's jaw and Dean turned his face to try to get a closer look. He drew in a sharp breath.

Along Sam's hairline and disappearing back into a blood-matted forest of brown hair, a knot rose, split with a raw gash that looked like it might be peaking at bone. He watched his brother's breathing, noticed it hitching regularly as he breathed in. He frowned.

Dean splayed a hand across his brother's ribs, working across the surface gently, trying to feel for any breaks. He was relieved to feel nothing obvious. Severe pain might register through subconscious - maybe it was that. He hoped so.

A groan from across the room had him lifting his head to seek out the sound.

Andy was sitting up slowly, rubbing the small of his back and wincing. He must have felt eyes on him and lifted his head, meeting Dean's gaze.

"Are you okay?" The man eased himself into a standing position. He leaned down, swaying slightly, to feel for a pulse at first Larkin and then Annie's necks. He nodded, satisfied, and looked back up at Dean.

"Think I might have broke a rib, or three." He winced at the statement. "But Sam's out, and he's got his head split open. Must have hit hard on that last landing. He's having a hard time breathing."

He ran his hand through his hair, wincing at the pain the movement caused. He wanted to stand, take action. But he was so dizzy he wasn't even sure he could keep sitting.

Andy leaned back down to examine Annie.

"She's pretty bruised up, looks like she lost a decent bit of blood." He winced, taking in the horrible bruising along her face.

Andy checked Bobby next, murmuring to himself as he did so.

"He's unconscious, but his breathing's regular, color's good. I think he'll be okay." He looked up, obviously relieved and then turned to look after Larkin. As he started to look closer at him, the man started coming around. His eyes fluttered open, closed and then open again. Bright blue eyes peered anxiously up at the pastor.

The man started, and then scooted away from the pastor and towards the wall.

"What is going on here? Why are you here?" He looked around frantically. Something flickered in his eyes and was gone again. He glared at the pastor.

"You were possessed by a demon. We exorcised it." Pastor Andy's eyes met Larkin's disbelieving eyes and held them. "What you see here is what was left behind. The demon inside you hurt all these people. Do you remember anything?"

The man's eyes were wide open and as he assessed what the pastor had told him.

"You're crazy! The last thing I remember, I was in my car ..." He trailed off, noticing just now who was still lying behind the pastor on the floor. "Ms. Carver?"

His eyes flickered again. He shook his head, grimacing.

"I don't understand." He looked more carefully around the room, suddenly recognizing the room's other occupants, and clutched his head in his hands.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy. But it happened. And now we have people hurt. We've got to decide exactly what we're telling the police and hospital." Andy's gentle voice carried through the man's shock.

"Police?"

"In order to rescue Sam and Bobby, we had to ... subdue ... several men who were here helping you. They're locked in the shed on the edge of your property. A couple more are tied up elsewhere." The pastor laid a hand gently on the man's shoulders. "I'm definitely a man of truth. But in this case I think we need the cliff-notes version only, otherwise we're likely to all end up in a psych ward."

Andy turned to find Dean's eyes drilling into him.

"We could forget about the police for a little while and get to the hospital in Andy's SUV, my car ..." The thought of walking the distance to his car made Dean cringe inwardly. "Make sure the men all stay tied up for a while, then deal with them a little later. Maybe we can come up with a better story then?"

"Dean, maybe you should stay here and make sure everyone is taken care of." He looked pointedly at Dean.

Dean shook his head and opened his mouth to disagree, when the pastor cut him off.

"You're barely conscious, Dean." Andy shook his head at Dean when he tried to argue with him. "You can do more good here. Perhaps Mr. Larkin would be able to walk with me to check out the men? It is his property, and since he is dispossessed, and the least wounded of the bunch of us ..."

Dean didn't like it. Dispossessed or not, Larkin was the same man who had tried to manhandle Annie the day before, or maybe it was the day before that even by now, Dean didn't know anymore. The fact was, Larkin just wasn't a likeable guy. Dean stared at him, studying him as if that would answer all his questions.

"I know I'm not the nicest guy around. I'm still not sure about all of this, but you can bet I want to get to the bottom of it all." He met Dean's eyes steadily.

Dean nodded curtly.

"Pastor, how many can fit in your SUV? Maybe you could run and get it after you check on those men out there." He looked down at his brother worriedly. Glanced across to Bobby, who hadn't moved at all. "I think we'll need to book it to the hospital."

Andy nodded. He looked at Larkin and jerked his head.

"We better get going."

As they neared the door, Dean's panicked curse made Andy double back to the brothers.

"Come on, Sammy, don't do this!" Sam's breathing was shallower and his lips were tinged a light grayish blue. "He's not getting enough oxygen!"

Dean's eyes met Andy's. His brother needed help quickly. As soon as possible. They had to get him to a hospital. Andy flinched in empathy and understanding.

"We'll have to deal with everything else later. I'll run and get the SUV, and ..." He looked in surprise as Larkin interrupted him.

"My car's in the garage. I mean, I'm pretty sure it would be. It's closer and you need to get him to the hospital soon." The man looked at Sam uncomfortably. He was just an administrator, but even he knew the man didn't look good. "Here."

The keys jangled softly in the air just before Andy caught them with a grateful look

"Just back it out of the driveway and drive it around the front of the house; we won't have to carry him as far." He looked suddenly pale. "I think I'm going to be sick."

He rushed to open a small door on the opposite side of the room, disappearing down the hallway behind it.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Andy turned towards the door, murmuring quietly under his breath as he opened the door and took off at a run.

Dean continued study his brother. Sam's color hadn't worsened, although his lips were still lightly grayed. He looked over at Annie and then towards Bobby. The boy looked peaceful, but the protective brother part of Dean couldn't stand to see the little child lying alone in the center of the room.

Just when he would have eased away from Sam, Larkin returned to the room. He still looked pale. And shaken. He paused as he entered, seeming to take stock of the bodies still on the floor. He moved first to Annie and checked her pulse, nodding to himself.

"She'll probably come around soon, she just got the crap beat out of her." Dean decided it might not be in good taste to point out who had done the beating. Larkin moved to Bobby.

"Weird, I don't see any head injury. His arm is twisted at a weird angle. Maybe something internal?" He felt the boy's pulse. "His pulse is nice and strong."

He looked down at the little child with something close to pity in his gaze.

"Poor kid." He looked up at Dean, who was saved from small talk by the sudden squeal of tires. Andy was back and rushed in, almost breathless.

"You didn't say there was another vehicle up there - an SUV - the keys were in it." He looked sheepishly at Larkin. "I hope you don't mind, but I just thought the quicker ..."

"I don't know whose SUV that it, it isn't mine." Larkin sighed and then smiled thinly. "I doubt anyone will complain about it at this point."

Andy walked over to Dean and stooped down.

"Let's get you up, okay?" Dean tensed and held his arms up.

Andy grasped him by both arms and pulled him swiftly to standing. The pain was sharp and Dean had to practice breathing at first to keep the dancing spots away from his line of vision.

"Mr. Larkin, sir. Could you help me get Sam in the vehicle?" Dean moved out of the way to give the two men room to position Sam's limp body between them.

As they carried him out to the SUV he moved slowly over to where Bobby lay. There was something sweet about the child, peaceful and innocent in sleep.

"Why don't you go ahead and get situated in the SUV? We'll get them." Andy moved to Annie's still form and lifted it easily. He adjusted the slight weight and started towards the door.

Larkin pulled Bobby against him, cradling him as his head rolled back. He flinched as he gazed at the child. He shifted the boy in his arms and followed the pastor towards the SUV. As he made his way outdoors to the vehicle, sudden pain clutched his temples. He winced and stumbled the rest of the way with Bobby, depositing him in the middle seat and adjusting a seat belt awkwardly around his prone form.

He almost fell out of the SUV then, and glanced at Andy before he shut the side door.

"Why don't you guys go on ahead? I'm just going to, um, rest a little bit and then I'll come on up." He met Andy's eyes and couldn't hide his pained expression.

"Maybe you should come with us. If you're hurting that badly. You could have a concussion or something." Andy watched the man, concerned.

"No, I think everything is just hitting me all at once. I just need a few minutes alone, a few Tylenol, and I'll be fine." He waved the big man off.

"Really." He added when Andy still hesitated. "Go."

The SUV pulled away and the man turned to go back inside. By the time the vehicle was gone, he was face first on the cold, hard ground. Clutching his head in agony, he blinked his eyes and repeatedly flinched, his whole body jerking.

Images were flashing through his head and he was stunned, watching them. Understanding started to dawn on him as the pain began receding. He was seeing what the demon had done while in his body. He was remembering. He watched the show, fascinated by the display of power.

When the images finally stopped, he still lay on ground, now on his back.

'_The power_ ..." he spoke in an awed tone. The demonic thoughts had left an imprint on his mind and he reeled from the vast amount of information. Grateful for the download of data the demon had left behind, he grinned suddenly.

He might have been a bad boy his whole life, but that was nothing compared to what he could do if he were possessed by another demon.

He shivered in delight. Standing quickly, he ran in anticipation to the house. He stumbled as he crossed the threshold, blinding pain crippling him again. Cursing, he stumbled his way towards the bathroom and found the pain pills quickly, dry-swallowing three of them at once.

He tripped over his own feet and landed in a heap on the floor. His breathing eased and face relaxed. A small smile rested on his face as he fell into a calm sleep.

The energy in the room waned, lessoning. Anyone listening closely might have heard a whisper in the air.

Special words.

Ancient words.

They faded away and the air was still.

The main slept on, his face no longer relaxed, but dangerously angry in sleep.

The pastor glanced sharply back at Dean in the rearview mirror.

"You want me to do what?" The pastor was in shock. He shook his head. He had misheard the man. He had to have.

"Wreck the SUV!" Dean almost yelled the three words, thinking the pastor had just not heard him.

"You're crazy!" The pastor stopped the SUV on the side of the road and turned to look at Dean. "Why would you want me to wreck the SUV? We've got to get everyone to the hospital!"

He was a patient man, but even he had his limitations. _Lord, give me patience. A lot of patience. _They had just pulled onto the road from the long driveway, away from Larkin's lakeside home. And now, they were stopped again.

"Look. Sammy's breathing better now. And I know we've got to get to the hospital, but think about it, man" Dean ran a hand through his hair subconsciously. "What would possibly explain everything that's wrong with all of us? How could we possibly get around the police getting involved?"

"There'd be so many questions and I don't know how we could answer them all. We'll have to deal with the police no matter what, but why don't we at least make it fairly open and shut? A wreck would do that."

He met Andy's eyes through the rearview mirror, accepted the disbelief in the pastor's eyes.

"I know it sounds crazy. But hear me out." The plan had occurred to him suddenly, and he thought it might work. "Let's get to where we parked and we'll get our vehicles. I can easily stage this one so that it will wreck into some trees. Done just right, it would be a miracle!" Here he paused with a wry grin, and for emphasis.

"We'd get everyone out of the horrible wreck, and just as soon as everyone's clear, the thing will blow up, obliterating so much evidence that it will be easy to believe our story. And everyone will be excited about the miracle of anyone surviving such a horrible accident. It could have been such a horrible tragedy."

"Sounds great, but you've got a couple of problems with that story." Andy looked pale and quite serious.

"What? It's perfect!" Dean couldn't see the flaw in his plan.

"Well, the first thing: It's not true! And the other - we'd be wrecking another person's vehicle. That just doesn't seem right." The pastor was obviously thinking with his religious brain. Dean had no doubt the man was right. Morally, it was horrible. Realistically, however, it would solve all their problems.

"Look, pastor. I realize that lying and everything is hard for you to do. But think this through. We have to stay below the radar or we could all be looking at serious questions from the police." He interrupted Andy's thoughts. "I'm sure you would be just fine in that department, but Sam and me, we'd end up in jail. And Annie could lose Bobby. They take kids away from guardians who can't keep them safe."

Andy recognized the validity of what Dean said. But, spiritually, he still had a hard time accepting that they had to do it.

"How would we explain what happened back there to the cops, man? They'd think we all were crazy!" Dean smirked. "I'm used to that, but it might be harder for you to convince everyone to believe in your big man upstairs if they think you've gone off the deep end."

Now there was a real point. Dean could see the exact second that Andy was convinced they had no other choice.

"Okay, but we'll crash my SUV and drive this one the rest of the way in." Dean's eyes widened in shock.

"Why would you do that? The guy this belonged to is probably one of those men tied up back there. He's an evil sonofa ..." he blushed, cutting himself off midway through his favorite phrase. Andy just looked at him reproachfully. "Well, he is."

Andy thought he sounded like a child trying to prove a point, But in this case he happened to agree. Just not with the language. He grinned to himself. He sometimes wished he could let loose and curse a blue streak. Decided, he pulled back onto the road and drove the short distance to where they had parked their vehicles.

"Besides, we won't have to move anyone if we do it this way." Dean had to agree with Andy's point. He looked longingly at his car as they pulled in between where the two vehicles were parked. They'd need to plan this accident for a little further up the road so his car wasn't anywhere around.

"I have no clue how to set an accident up like this." Andy was thinking to himself, but talking out loud.

"I'll take care of it." Dean spoke up, a little amused. "I can set it up so no one even has to be in the car when it crashes."

"Really?" Andy met Dean's eyes in surprise.

"Yeah, man. I'll take care of it." He chuckled at the pastor. "Haven't you ever watched TV? CSI? Law and Order? It's where I get all my best stuff."

It worked well.

In fact, Andy questioned the ease of it all.

Dean set up the crash a half mile down the road, "helped" the explosion in such a way that would make it hard to detect. He called 911 right before they rushed along to the hospital.

Apparently, while you were supposed to stay at the scene of an accident, if you sounded desperate enough you could get the 911 operator to basically order you on to the hospital instead. Dean pulled off sounding desperate just fine.

It helped that an ambulance was at least 20 minutes away at the nearest hospital. They could be to the hospital by the time an ambulance could make it to them. Instead the police were dispatched to the scene and the hospital had been informed of their impending arrival. That had helped matters when they actually arrived, pushing them before other ER patients.

Dean was diagnosed with broken ribs, three to be exact. While he was happy to accept the pain medications, he refused to take them until he knew what was going on for sure with his brother.

So instead, he was stalking the ER staff, waiting for answers about his brother. Well, he was until about two minutes ago, when he was unceremoniously escorted back to stalk the room with the pastor instead. He was disrupting the ER, it seemed, and they didn't appreciate it.

To keep himself from getting too annoyed at the worried man, the pastor started pacing. He stared at the clock on the wall, willing it to move faster. It inched slowly forward, just as it had for the last hour and a half since they had arrived.

"_Lord. They've all been through so much_." The pastor whispered brokenly to himself. "_Please be with each of them and help them to heal. Give them the strength to endure and recover, Lord. And help those doctors to move faster_!"

A wry chuckle escaped.

A sigh.

"_Sorry, man, but I just want to know they will all be okay. Please Lord? In Jesus' name, amen_." The pastor finished his informal prayer and spun on his heel, forcing himself to look away from the clock. He allowed his mind to wander, and found himself considering Bobby.

He had known the boy was special. He just hadn't had any idea just how special he truly was.

He wasn't unconscious immediately after the demon's final strike, but he had a hard time trying to understand what he had seen before he did pass out. He wasn't positive what language Bobby had spoken as he stood in the center of the room, but it wasn't Latin.

It almost sounded like Aramaic, but he only knew a few words in that language and had no idea how Bobby would have learned it without his knowledge. It sounded like a prayer: The even cadence. One thing he heard had sounded like the Aramaic word for God. It was wild, though, hearing that ancient language coming out of the boy's lips. Gave him goose bumps.

He had sensed the power behind whatever it was Bobby was saying, though. He came to and found the chaos left behind.

Except . . . it wasn't really that chaotic: there had been a calm quality to the air that was completely opposite the stress of the situation. He couldn't explain it. It was as if some unseen force was weaving its light around the room, making panic and fear flee. He had felt calm, worried of course, but still calm and almost . . . peaceful.

He didn't have time to ponder any further as the door opening interrupted his thoughts.

"Pastor Andrew Micheals?" The doctor sought him out and shook his hand. He warily watched Dean as he approached them. "Are you Dean Richards?"

"Yes." They both said at the same time, both anxious for any news the doctor could share.

"You were with the group brought in earlier, from the accident?" He still eyed Dean with a little bit of concern. Dean didn't think he had acted that crazy earlier. Under normal circumstances, he might have been amused that his reputation preceded him, but he just wanted information. He wanted to see his brother. He stepped closer to the doctor, invading his personal space.

"Okay, well, Annie and Bobby Carver are in pretty good shape, considering. Annie lost a lot of blood, but with rest, she should recover within a few days. The contusions along her face will take longer to heal."

The pastor shook his head, remembering Annie's abused face.

"Well, she should be okay. The little Carver boy is doing okay. He's dehydrated, has a sprained wrist and a couple bruised ribs. We are a little concerned he hasn't woken up yet. He didn't appear to have any head wounds." The pastor nodded, relieved for his favorite, okay only, student and his sister. Friends, he corrected mentally. They were his friends.

The doctor paused and considered his next words carefully.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Richards. But I'm afraid we just don't know a lot about your brother." He winced, taking in the effect his words were having on the wounded man. The doctor had his own brother; he understood those emotions. He even understood, mostly, why the man had gone half-cocked and scared half his ER staff earlier.

"He took a very hard hit to his head, and he's still unconscious. The CT scan showed some mild pressure on left frontal lobe, mostly isolated. Hopefully as the swelling goes down, the pressure will return to normal." He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

"The next twenty-four hours will tell. He also managed to crack at least a couple of his ribs as well. They'll be sore for a while, but they'll heal. We treated several deep abrasions on his wrists. He must have gotten caught in the vehicle somehow, since some of those were pretty deep."

"When can I see him?" Everything else could wait.

"I'll take you now." The doctor moved to the side. "The Carvers are in the room next to Sam, together. We thought it best considering the little one, Bobby, would be scared if he woke up without his sister."

He met the pastor's eyes.

"I appreciate you telling me about Bobby's autism, I've noted it on his chart so his sister will be able to share that room with him to make it easier for the little guy." Andy nodded, clearly relieved the doctor had listened and even acted on his words.

"Now Mr. Richardsyou have your own injuries and we need to make sure you don't make anything worse." He met Dean's eyes. "Once your brother is set up in his own room, I left instructions for the nurses to move over a fold-a-bed. It's a little more comfortable than the alternative. You need to relax as much as possible."

He glanced from one man to another.

"Given the circumstances, I left instructions as well that either of you two would be able to visit at any time, regardless of visiting hours." He paused and his voice was just a little harder when he continued. "Please don't make me regret that, or I'd have to change my orders."

He pushed open the waiting room door and ushered the men into the bustling activity zone that was the ER. They quickly came their destination.

Dean and Andy shared a quick look. Both braced their shoulders. And then they walked into separate rooms to see to their respective charges.

* * *

We're almost through with this thrill ride, folks! One more chapter and then the epilogue. But not to worry, the sequel, Ancient Words, is already written and I've already re-edited more than half of it to have it ready to post.

Reiews are sweet - won't you share a bit? Thanks for reading... ---Kat


	13. Chapter 13

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes – Ch. 13 "Moving On"

**Author: **Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to _Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Another hunt, another ending. Or is it?

_**Chapter 13- Moving on?**_

The pastor braced himself against the doorframe for a moment, gathering himself. He was relieved to see movement on one of the beds. Annie turned her head from staring at her brother's still form.

"Andy." Her voice was dull, weary. She held his gaze for a moment, then turned her head back toward her brother. Her voice was still quiet. "I should have taken better care of him. If I had made sure that door was locked, he would never have gotten outside. They'd never have gotten to him."

"You know Bobby. He knows how to undo locks." He walked over and sat beside her on the bed, careful not to jar her sore body. "When he's in that playful mood, he just likes to run. And he'll go, no matter what. You know that. He's done it to us both."

"I know, but if I'd just been watching, I could have caught him faster, before ..." She shuddered. She couldn't even complete the thought. Her brother had been through a lot in his short life to become the happy little guy that he was today. But being kidnapped, hurt. She put her face in her hands and cried, sobbed really.

Andy blinked. He'd never seen Annie cry: Not even when her parents had died; Not when they'd read the will; Not when she'd opened that last letter from them. When she had made her decision to be her brother's caretaker, she had never looked back, but it had obviously taken a toll on her. He could see that now. This proverbial straw broke the camel's back.

He pulled her close and rested her against his chest. He wasn't that great with tears so he just patted her back a bit awkwardly and said "It'll be okay" enough times he lost count. Several agonizing minutes later, she finally pulled away, looked away. He felt relieved. Then he felt guilty.

He was a pastor. Tears shouldn't bother him so much. But there was a reason he was in charge of the library and not the church. He waited.

"Sorry. I'm such a wimp." She angrily wiped the last of her tears away with the sheet and glared into nothing. "I just can't let anything happen to him. It would kill me."

Andy nodded. He knew she felt very protective of her brother. He was pretty sure he was supposed to say something caring and wise right about now.

"Remember God can and will protect him, even when you can't." She met his eyes, nodded, and then looked away.

"Yeah, but His idea of protection and mine seem to be a little different." She hesitated. "I kind of think I could have a better handle on it, honestly."

"Part of trusting in God, means that you trust even when you aren't sure why He's doing what He's doing. That's what faith is." He met her eyes and she looked away. "You need to remember, as much as you love Bobby, God loves him even more."

"Well, sometimes I wonder." She bit her lip and shook her head as if to clear it. Then she looked over at her brother. "Did you teach him all that Latin?"

"Well, I worked with him on it, but he really taught himself. I think he could learn any language just by himself." He chuckled. The boy had basically taught himself Latin before the pastor had a clue. He hadn't even known he understood what he was reading. "I guess after he memorized so much of the Bible, he wanted a new challenge."

Annie looked at him, a question in her eyes. A sudden movement from the other bed caused her to straighten and turn back to her brother as he sat straight up in bed.

"An-nie!" His hoarse scream caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. He immediately started rocking and violently trembling, moaning quietly to himself. Annie struggled to disengage herself from the sheets on the bed; would have fallen if Andy had not caught her when she tumbled from the bed.

"Bobby, it's okay. Annie's here, sweetie. Annie's here." She struggled to force her body into position behind him on the bed. She wrapped her arms around him in a modified bear hug, and squeezed as hard as she dared. He had drawn his arms up protectively in front of his body.

"Sar'ee. Ba' ma' sar'ee. Bobby bra'. Ye'ow eyes. Ba' ting. Sar'ee ting. Ba' ting go 'way. Bobby say spec'l wor's." (Scary. Bad man scary. Bobby brave. Yellow eyes. Bad thing. Scary thing. Bad thing go way. Bobby say special words.) The words mumbled almost incoherently. Jumbled together. They were almost a mantra as he repeated them over and over, in time with the rocking. He trembled.

Annie blinked back the tears as she frantically tried to keep the tension from her body. Bobby would react if he felt her tense. And she couldn't let him get any more upset. She ignored the pain flaring throughout her battered body and tried to speak over his frantic mumbling.

She moved her body in motion with his, rocking gently. She hugged him from behind, with her arms crossed over his. Within seconds, his breathing was regular and his frantic motions had stopped.

They just swayed together, and Annie found herself lulled into a calm, almost sleeplike state. She was surprised when her brother spoke, and it jolted her into awareness.

"Ba' guys go'?" (Bad guys gone?) Softly spoken, the words carried a slight tremor.

"Yeah, sweetie, they're gone." Annie felt him relax even further into her. She was surprised sometimes, at how much her brother actually understood.

"Spec'l wor's hur' ba' guys. Ma' go 'way." (Special words hurt bad guys. Make go away) He said it quite firmly, though his voice was still soft.

"Yeah, honey." She sighed and closed her eyes. _Oh for it to all just be over. Please._

She smoothed his thick hair back from his forehead, grinning when he pulled away from her meddling hand. To tease him, she captured and landed a quick kiss in the middle of his head. His hair felt soft, and she turned to nuzzle her cheek against the tangled strands.

His stiff body relayed his agitation and she pulled back slightly to give him space, sighing. Sometimes she would give anything to be able to love on her brother without him pulling away. He showed affection, but it was on his terms, and she couldn't help but feel selfish right now. She had missed him; agonized over his safety; but he was here, he was safe, and thank God, he hadn't been hurt that badly. As her thoughts drifted, he slackened against her, finally relaxing enough to accept her arms around him again.

He turned, shifting so that she was holding him against her, like a baby. She tucked him closer to her body, pulling him tight. He cuddled closer in the blanket of deep pressure she was providing, relaxing further. He cheek was warm against her chest, his little body rightly nestled within her arms. She sighed. When he was snuggled against her like that, she felt like she could protect him from the whole world. All the bad guys. Everything.

She closed her eyes and moved as one with her brother, letting the soft swaying quiet the crying deep within her own soul. _Oh Lord, make it better. Please. Help me help him, Lord. Protect him. _

His breathing gentled as he fell asleep, safe in his sister's arms. Long minutes, a half hour, and then an hour passed. The peacefulness crept over the room. Andy's head had dropped down to the side, fatigue finally catching up with him. The quiet soothed, calmed their frayed nerves and fractured spirits.

Annie had been in the quiet place between sleep and peaceful thoughts when she felt him stir.

"Where Sa'?" She had wondered when he was going to think about Sam.

"Well, sweetie. He's hurt right now, and he's sleeping." The doctor had visited with her for a few moments before getting Andy and Dean earlier. "He'll be okay soon, though, and then we can see him."

"Wa' see Sa'. Now! (Want see Sam. Now)" He started squirming and all her hard work went up in smoke as he started getting more agitated. She sighed.

The increased volume was just enough to pull Andy from his nap. He blinked his eyes, taking in the scene in front of him. He studied the small child on the bed and decided he wasn't about to get in the middle of this brother/sister argument. He knew who would win.

The doctor picked that moment to come in and check on his patients and caught Bobby's frantic demand. Annie looked at him apologetically.

"He wants to see Sam. Our friend in the other room? He's kind of attached to him. Is there any way?" The doctor smiled, cutting her off, and addressed Bobby.

"Hey there. You want to see Sam?" At Bobby's vehement nod, he continued. "Well, I'm sure Sam would want you to visit. But do you think he'd want you to be upset?"

Bobby stopped to think.

"Wa' see Sa'. No uh'se'. Go now?" (Want see Sam. No upset. Go now?) He asked calmly, politely. The straining he was doing against his sister's arms gave away his turmoil.

"Okay. Why don't we have a nurse take these things off for now?" He gestured towards the IV lines. "And then you can go, quietly, next door to see Sam. Okay?"

"K. Nur' co' now?" (Okay. Nurse come now?) He looked at the doctor's chest expectantly.

"Yes, the nurse will come in now." The doctor chuckled and turned to Annie. "He's a smart little guy – sure knows how to get what he wants, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Well, it helps that he looks too cute to resist half the time." She smiled, then winced. She had forgotten just how sore her face was.

"Nur' hu'y." (Nurse hurry.) The little boy pulled away from Annie and crossed his arms. Petulant now, he stared at the door, willing the nurse to hurry. He started rocking gently, swaying to help pass the time.

Rocking always helped.

* * *

Dean looked up at the door, surprised at the interruption. The doctor had just been in a few minutes ago.

He saw a nurse pushing Bobby in a wheelchair and Annie walking slowly behind, clutching Andy's arm for support.

He had heard the screaming from their room earlier. In fact, he had almost decided to go check it out. But then his brother's heart monitor had started going off. And in the worry he didn't think any more about leaving the room.

He watched as Bobby's eyes opened wide. The boy's frantic gaze moved around the room. He looked dismissively in Dean's direction when the man stepped in front of the wheelchair and leaned around him to zero in on Sam.

"Hey Bobby." He crouched painfully to look at the boy. "How you doing? I thought you might be sleeping." He glanced up at Annie.

"He got upset. Wanted Sam." Annie grinned. "He was willing to calm down just to come see him. That's a big deal."

The nurse pushed the wheelchair up to the bed and then turned to leave.

"Just call when you're ready to go back in the other room. Not too long now, you all need your rest." She swished out of the room, leaving them to all watch Bobby.

And before Dean knew what he was up to, Bobby wormed his way around him and onto the bed, resting on his knees beside Sam. He sat there, watching the bigger man. The look on his face was so expressive that, for a moment, Dean didn't react.

The boy looked tiny in the bed beside Sam, as he looked longingly at the bigger man and studied his face. Bobby looked down Sam's arms, chest and then back up, studying the bandage that covered his left temple. He reached out and gently, laid his hand on Sam's chest.

His small hand splayed over the sheet resting there, rising in motion with Sam's breathing.

He looked frantically back over his shoulder at Dean and caught his eye for a fleeting moment. Dean's breath caught. The boy looked like he was about to cry. The fear and panic in that instant of eye contact actually scared Dean a little.

"Hey, little guy. It's okay. Sam's just sleeping. He's resting so he'll feel better." Dean couldn't believe how much the little guy reminded him of a little Sammy: his heart was always on his sleeve too.

"Sa' wa' up now?" (Sam wake up now?) Bobby looked pleadingly at Sam's still form. But there was no response. Bobby glanced over his shoulder at Dean. His gaze was still a shocking display of raw emotion. Tears welled and spilled, drawing jagged wet lines down his cheek. "Sa' hur'?"

"Yeah, buddy." Dean wasn't really sure how much to tell him. He glanced at Annie with a raised eyebrow, asking a quiet question. When no help was offered, he braced himself and tried to think of an easy way to tell Bobby what was going on with his brother.

"Sam has an owie on his head. He's sleeping so it will get better." He looked carefully at the little guy, to see if his explanation was enough. Bobby relaxed. Looked like it was enough for now.

"Bobby ta' ca' Sa' now. Sa' feeh' be'er. (Bobby take care Sam now. Sam feel better.)" His statement was said with such a serious air of authority, Dean couldn't feel too insulted.

"Tell you what, Bobby. Why don't we share that job and maybe he'll get better faster." He thought that sounded fair. So Bobby's next words cracked him up and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.

"Bobby sha'. Dee' hep' Sa' fee' be'er too." (Bobby share. Dean help Sam feel better too.) He was quite serious again. Priceless. Bobby would share his brother with him. Huh.

The kids must have gotten close when they were stuck together. He would have to ask Sam about that later. For now, it looked like he would have to wrestle with Bobby to watch over his brother.

Bobby turned back to Sam, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. A small grin slipped past Dean's defenses.

"Sa'?" (Sam?) Bobby leaned in a little closer, watching Sam intently. His hand stayed on Sam's chest as his other hand floated up to touch his rough cheek. He tapped. Dean watched carefully.

His heart wrenched when Bobby pulled back and partially curled up on his side, carefully, next to Sam. He glanced back at Annie and met the pastor's eyes, turning his head back to Bobby when he heard quiet murmuring.

Bobby was praying. One eyebrow raised in question and Dean looked back at Andy.

"Is that Latin?" He couldn't help admiring Bobby. It was hard to speak Latin on the fly. Of course, he knew enough Latin to read from his Dad's journal or a book, but memorizing it involved a lot of much effort. The little guy speaking it so easily was an anomaly.

"Bobby's fluent in Latin." The pastor was amused. "He learned it better than English."

They all listened carefully to the even cadence of the child's prayer. Andy offered a partial translation about midway through.

"He's asking God to help Sam feel better, to ask his angels to guard and protect him, and..." He chuckled softly. "And to make his hurt go away."

Dean grinned gently, watching the child. When he glanced back at the pastor and Annie, he found both of them with eyes closed, hands joined. Their faces relaxed, they were listening to the softly spoken prayer offered from the bedside, and joining with the child.

Man. These people prayed a lot.

The words slowed down, and after a lull, ended with a softly spoken "amen."

"God hep' Sa'. Sa' be k." (God help Sam. Sam be okay.) Bobby whispered the words to himself, but Dean couldn't help agreeing with the sentiment. The boy sat, watching Sam with expressive brown eyes still ringed with the smudges of fatigue.

Something in the room felt different. Charged.

Dean watched, surprised, relieved, as Sammy moved. First his hand flexed, then an arm. His eyes blinked against the bright light as both Dean and Bobby leaned close in excitement. Small slivers of green appeared, disappeared and finally stayed present.

Sam was awake.

Kind of.

His mouth moved, but nothing came out. And his eyebrows creased in consternation. His eyes opened wider and he met Dean's eyes, relief obvious in his gaze. Then he met Bobby's eyes, for just a second, and he smiled gently at the child.

He swallowed and met Dean's eyes again.

"You guys going to just stare at me all day?" Voice raspy, he grinned, showing dimples as he took in Dean's exhausted face and then turned to look at Bobby. Then he looked back at Dean before again looking at Bobby.

"Hey there Bobby, wha'tcha doing?" He couldn't help a chuckle as he was treated to a gentle Bobby hug.

"Sa'!" Bobby's voice muffled against Sam's chest as he rested against the safe spot there. "Ba' guys go'. Ba' ting' go'. Sa' o'ee be'er. (Bad guys gone. Bad thing gone. Sam owie better.)"

"Owie?" Sam looked at Dean for clarification, surprised to find Dean amused at Bobby's display of contentment. Dean obliged, with a grin.

"You hurt your head. We were waiting for you to wake up to find out if you'd be okay." His voice caught. He cleared his throat and covered the best way he knew how. "Of course, we know your head's messed up already. Don't we Sammy?"

Just as Sam was about to come back with a retort, Bobby spoke.

"Na' Sa', no Sa'y, Sa'. (name Sam, not Sammy, Sam.)" If it weren't for the look of confusion on his face, Dean would have sworn the child was teasing him.

"He lets me call him Sammy, Bobby. It's okay." At his words, Bobby turned full on to Sam and looked into his eyes. With a big grin he questioned softly.

"Sam-mee? Bobby ca' Sam-mee?" Sam glared at his brother and then turned a brilliant smile on the little guy. Without missing a beat, he retorted.

"Actually, I don't _let_ Dean call me Sammy, but you know what Bobby? You can call me whatever you want. Okay?" Dean's mouth hung open. Man, that sucked. The kid had one up on him now. He eyed his brother with an easy grin.

Sam grinned back.

"So when can I get out of here?"

"Well, Sammy, I think they might want to make sure that big head of yours is all better first." Dean couldn't help stressing the nickname. He was surprised by the reaction.

Sam and Bobby both turned heated glares on him.

"Don't call me that, Dean!" Sam's voice was a throwback to countless other instances. But speaking over Sam's voice was Bobby's, equally affronted.

"De' no ca' Sam-mee. De' ca' Sa'. (Dean no call Sammy. Dean call Sam.)" He glared in Dean's direction for emphasis. "Sam-mee no li'. (Sammy no like.)

He grinned at Bobby.

"Sam was really just teasing, Bobby. He likes it fine when I call him Sammy." He looked at his brother. But Sam wasn't playing ball. His grin spoke volumes.

"No way Bobby, let him have it." He told the little guy.

"Le' ha' wha?" Bobby was confused. What was he supposed to let Dean have? He looked from Sam to Dean in puzzlement.

"Never mind, kiddo." Sam ruffled Bobby's hair, grinning when Bobby pulled slightly back, away from the contact. He leaned forward to whisper to Bobby.

"You and I make a good team, little man, you know that?" His eyes twinkled even as the pain in his body caught up with him. He groaned and leaned back in bed. Eyes closed, he felt the absence of weight on the bed as Dean lifted Bobby to hold him.

"Hey little guy, why don't we let Sam get a little rest, and you let Annie help you out?" Dean whispered close to Bobby's face, careful not to try and force eye contact. "Sam needs to sleep a little while."

Bobby seemed undecided, and he looked at Dean's cheek, unsure. He looked around Dean to find Annie.

"An-nie hep' Bobby?" Annie looked at Dean and grinned a small grin. She seated herself in the wheelchair and then looked up at Andy.

"Could you grab him Andy? I don't want Dean's ribs to get any worse." She gave Dean a shy smile. "Thanks for being so sweet with him. I think he got a lot closer to Sam than I realized."

Dean waited for Andy to take the little boy out of his arms, happy to lose the weight. His ribs were really starting to kill him. Him, sweet? Yeah, right.

"Yeah, well. No big deal." He looked at Bobby as he settled on his sister's lap. He relaxed into her and smiled softly, even while maintaining a line of sight to the bed to see Sam. His brown eyes flickered to rest on Dean's hazel ones for just a second and then away again.

Dean watched them maneuver out of the room. He turned back to check on his brother. He was asleep, soft, steady breaths giving away his exhaustion.

Dean should have probably pushed the nurse's button when Sam had awakened. He pushed it now and ran a hand tiredly through his hair, wincing at the pull to his sore ribs.

This hadn't been quite like their normal gigs. Usually it was like a mantra: another stop, another hunt. Usually successful. Occasionally not.

This time, there were still loose ends to tie up.

But for now, in the here and now, just having his brother safe, and conscious was enough. (even if he was asleep again).

* * *

Okay, then...this is almost the end of the ride. Just the Epilogue to come. But I've already got over half of the sequel re-edited and ready for posting. The Epilogue will give you a clue as to a couple of the new themes to be presented in the sequel to come, _Ancient_ _Words_. Thanks for reading, thanks for the support and the reviews. ----Kat 


	14. Epilogue

**Title/Chapter:** Look Into His Eyes – Epilogue  
**Author:**Supernatural Mommy  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean (no pairings), OFC (no romantic interests), OMC (child)  
**Spoilers**: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to_Nightmare_  
**Warnings:** PG-13: Language, mild violence (towards a child) and hurt/comfort, some religious references  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em pity, but new characters are my own creation.  
**Summery:** Is there really a calm after the storm?  
**Authors Notes:** Okay – so the story was once upon a time finished and I got this crazy idea on how I wanted to expand it and work through a sequel. So the epilogue was born. Here you'll be introduced a little to the characters and themes that will highlight the sequel. The sequel focuses on the true fight between good and evil, and the different forms it can take. Sometimes, the strongest one to survive isn't the biggest, or the bravest. Expect it to be vastly different (did I mention angels yet? grin) than this one, which was my first ever SPN fic.

_**Epilogue**_

_Jalmari stood ready in the light beyond human perception. _

_His charge was safe for now. Protected. Recuperating. _

_This small human was more faithful than others decades older and more eloquent with the ancient language. _

_The light surrounding him brightened to accept another. Jalmari turned to consider the newest protector._

"_We must be diligent. This was but a small battle in a larger war. Our Lord has warned it could claim one of these servants and will surely test the rest." Apostal spoke weary words. The fight between Heaven and Hell, light and dark, good and evil, was ages-old. But as the final era neared, the battles were more numerous. _

"_They must be ready for battle at any point." He moved to stand in unison with his brother in battle, in faith. The studied their charges. The small, mighty one rested, his sister vigilant at his side. In the corner, the man who was close to God sat, reading from his Bible, mumbling quiet words of prayer. _

_The light expanded yet again to accept another. They greeted Jacobus. _

"_The child, he must be protected at all costs." The other two heavenly beings regarded him with surprise. "He's been gifted with knowledge of the ancient languages. A small, untouched part of him understands the power behind the language. His innocence is the key."_

"_He called down the ancient words, requested heavenly protection with the most holy of words. The Lord was honored to answer the prayer. And pleased with this child of faith." Jalmari nodded as Jacobus reported the heavenly response. "He is meant to do even more."_

"_The child is special. His faith is strong." Jalmari spoke gently, and turned from gazing at his charge to consider his patriots. "But he is yet an innocent." _

_All three heavenly beings drew up tall in attention to the sudden change in the room below. Against the shadows, evil lurked. Watched. And waited. _

_The protectors stood ready, guarding those in the room. _

_The littlest charge slept on._

In his dreams, Bobby saw the angels.

They were very special.

Brave.

He liked them.

He had prayed for them to help Sam, and they did. He talked to them a lot. Sometimes he saw them as they appeared now: Large, white and almost glowing with goodness. They were always standing, ready.

But usually he just felt them. He knew they were real. And he knew they were with him, no matter what happened.

The one - his special friend - he sometimes talked right to him. He heard his whispers to pray, to believe, to be brave. He tried to do what the angel wanted.

In his head he could even say the name. Jalmari.

He smiled to himself: he liked that name. Almost as much as Jesus. Or Annie.

In his dreams, the angels fought on. They always won against the bad guys.

That was the way it should be. He knew that. Sometimes it didn't happen like that when everything was real. Sometimes the bad guys did win.

Not for long.

But sometimes, they did.

Like when he had been with Sam and that bad thing had been mean to them.

But even then, the angels were watching, protecting.

They had whispered to him. "Remember the special words." He did. Easy.

They had stayed with him. He even felt one of them put a hand on his shoulder. And he didn't try to pull away. He liked it okay when angels were close to him.

He knew one was with Sam, helping him when he was hurt too.

The angels were always there.

He felt them.

_Jalmari grinned widely, knowing the direction of his youngest charge's dreams. _

_His innocence and faith were simple yet powerful. Important. _

_His grin drew the attention of his two companions. _

"_How wonderful is it that such a small one can wield such power?" Jacobus whispered with true affection. "The faith of a true innocent."_

"_The enemy is still close, brothers." Apostal stood, wings spread and heavenly body tensed in willing readiness. _

"_They will not strike again now. Not here. Their time is not yet here." Jalmari, posted at the foot of the bed, stood poised and tall anyway. His eyes flashed dangerously into the dark shadows of the room. _

"_These faithful ones must be strengthened further. The battle to come will test them mightily." Jacobus spoke softly. His friends, brothers, nodded. Each poised near one of their charges, whispering words to spur their unconscious minds to action. _

"_Protect the innocent, protect the faith. Protect your heart for the battle to come."_

In his dreams, Bobby listened to Jalmari. His eyes wide open, he stared in wonder at the angel.

"Bobby brave. Bobby uses special words." Bobby studied the angel.

"I know this little one. You are very brave. And you know your special words very good." Jalmari's bright eyes twinkled at Bobby. "Sometimes, though, we have to remember to use special words when we're scared, and it is hard to do. You know there are bad things in this world, yes, little one?"

He paused, taking in Bobby's firm nod.

"Sometimes the bad things do things that make it hard to pray, to use our special words, or any words at all, to talk to God." The heavenly being paused, stooping down to meet the child face to face. He looked into the deep brown eyes, pleased to find the child meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

"You already have the words in your heart, special one. You are one with God's own heart. No matter what happens, God is pleased with you, and he is always near you." The angel paused, then cupped the boy's face with his hand. Bobby leaned into the gesture, knowing instinctively this was nothing to fear. "Do you understand, little one?"

"God is always with Bobby." The boy whispered solemnly. He liked talking in his dreamsit was easy to do. "Even if the bad things come back, and even if they hurt Bobby. Or Annie? Sam? Andy? Dean?"

The boy bit his bottom lip at he looked away, and then again met the bright eyes of the angel. The large being nodded his head gently, and wiped a lone tear from Bobby's face

"God will always be with you and those you pray for. You and Annie, Andy and even Sam and Dean, you can help them all fight the bad guys." The words soothed the sensitive child and Bobby relaxed into the guardian's embrace. His small form relaxed into deeper sleep, where he joined his heroes, being brave, being strong, protecting.

_Back behind the veil of human perception, Jalmari stood watch over their charges, Jacobus and Apostal stood at attention, tensed and ready as well. _

_The bright beings were softly discussing the others who were to fight with their charges in the battle to come.Their role was imperative, and yet they didn't believe._

"_What of the hunters?" Jalmari asked his brothers. He thought of the tall one who had helped his charge during the last battle. Sam. And his brother Dean. Both were courageous souls. They fought on the side of light, but without faith. He was curious of their role in the battles to come._

"_We know not what their future holds, only that they are joined with the ones we guard." Apostal answered. "Mika'el stands watch over them now. The Lord's plan calls for their involvement on the earthly realm. They are important warriors for our side in this battle to come."_

_And as the angels guarded their charges, the room was calm. The innocent slept on, dreaming of protection and angels, while his sister and the one of God prayed. _

_All readied themselves, stronger because of the battle already fought, seeking knowledge and courage for the fight yet to come._


End file.
